


No other shade of blue (but you)

by KyryeDuBarie



Series: The Soulmate AU and it's ramifications [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, But in this oone Kuroo is too, But there are pills that stop that, Like soon, M/M, Rating will change, Soulmate AU, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings, Very inspired by Ts folklore, Your soulmate can hear you singing and whatever music you listen to, will cover both canon and post-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 123,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26164315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyryeDuBarie/pseuds/KyryeDuBarie
Summary: Kei has never cared much about soulmates.Tetsuro has never wanted to meet his, and he's taken measures to avoid it.----OrMy try at a soulmate AU
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: The Soulmate AU and it's ramifications [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022836
Comments: 453
Kudos: 549
Collections: HQ Feels (Mostly M or E)





	1. August (slipped away)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone, I know, I should be finishing my Med!AU series. And I am, I promise, that should be up by like Monday. But this wouldn't leave me alone and even my Atsuhina assignment wasn't flowing too well.  
> This is based of a soulmate AU I once -like a million years ago- saw on tumblr, where your soulmate can hear any music you sing/listen to.It wasn't hq, and frankly I only remember that detail lol.  
> SO I decided to try my hand at it.  
> This starts from the very beginning but about half the story will happen after the MSBY BJ vs Adlers game, I just needed to set it up lol.  
> In this story, the soulmate stuff started happening around twenty years prior to well, the start. This is important to the plot -because I can never make things simple-.  
> Oh and also, in this Lev joins Nekoma a bit after their first match with Karasuno.
> 
> The [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1wwB4Z4Wdm5nNWLArfKOg0?i=UhT78xSQSIGB73tapYLGPw)

**Spring 2012**

Almost all of the times -not that there are many- that Kei has heard his soulmate in all this time, they have sounded faint and far away.

Also completely ridiculous.

They- _he,_ Kei reminds himself- is fond of silly anime opening songs and vines. So much so that Kei can’t decide whether the voice in his head is pleasant or not, he definitely doesn’t have the soprano range for those anime openings, and the meme songs just make Kei cringe.

Whatever.

At least this person rarely actually listens to music and only sporadically bothers Kei, like twice a week at most. Sometimes he wonders if it's a reaction to the fact that Kei is _always_ listening to music.

It’s not like he cares. If he finds this rando at some point he might try to talk to him or something, but he doesn’t buy into the stupid notion that he’ll be the end all be all for his love life. Hell, even for soulmates things don’t always go right, so why should he hang on to something that idealistic?

But still, when Nekoma’s captain speaks for the first time around him, a jolt of surprise travels up Kei’s spine.

No, he has never paid much attention to his soulmate’s voice, and when it _is_ around it’s usually squeaky and pretty different from what it probably sounds like while having a normal conversation.

Kuroo Tetsuro is a tall, man, with hair that looks more like a rooster’s tail than actual hair and piercing hazel eyes. He’s broad-shouldered and lean, and the voice that has been in Kei’s head -if scarcely- since he was ten fits him like a ring. Both the exaggerated, squeaky one and the one that Kei imagines sometimes, the one he hears whisper-hummed in the small hours of the morning when he can't sleep or studies late, the one that always cuts off abruptly.

He's dumbstruck, even as the other man tilts his chin up, the lean muscles of his neck stretching. His tan skin gleams in the sun.

Besides Kei’s not going to randomly blurt out what he suspects here, in front of a bunch of people that he does not feel comfortable with -save for, maybe, Tadashi-. So he simply looks away and lets the game start, he meets Kuroo at the net several times throughout the match, but the other man doesn’t seem to be especially focused on him.

Maybe he’s wrong?

There could be many people with that timbre to their voice.

.

.

Before this, Tetsuro never thought someone could make the soft, short hairs at the back of his neck stand on end from just one look.

But Karasuno’s number eleven can. He’s somehow taller than Tetsuro already, though he’s a first-year and he’s _staring_. It’s unnerving for some reason, maybe the way the man’s eyes narrow is too sharp, the furrow of his brow not at all curious but more unfriendly.

Maybe it’s because he’s attractive, clearly checking him out and Tetsuro doesn’t date too much.

Who dates these days? In their group of age at least. Adults are much more decent and mature about it all, but if anyone is even thinking about dating and also around Tetsuro’s age, they are usually dating their soulmate.

And they think that’s that.

The game goes on, for all that the blond is tall and seemingly in decent shape, he’s not that good a player. By the grace of his height, he can block a little higher than anyone else but he doesn’t put much effort in. Tetsuro knows his kind. If he jumped like the little orange one, then, _that_ would be impressive.

Tetsuro can’t help a little smirk when he smashes a spike form right above the other’s block.

It ends, predictably, with a victory for his team.

The small, orange one -Hinata, he remembers- rushes to Inuoka, their conversation giving Tetsuro the distinct impression of seeing two puppies just meeting. He walks over for a better vantage point when a scoff from his right startles him. "What are they, children?"

Number eleven is there, arms crossed over his chest, his thin top lip curled in amusement. The pointer finger of his right hand is pushing his thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, making him look like some sort of manga villain. Tetsuro can't help but return the scoff in kind. “Well, that isn’t much of a highschooler’s conversation.” He drawls, sidling up to the blond. Golden eyes turn on him, still amused, almost mocking like he thinks Tetsuro’s backing him up. “But then you could do with acting more like a highschooler.”

All amusement drains from the blond’s face, a pale eyebrow rises sharply. “You’re Nekoma’s captain.” He says simply, a mocking undertone to the words. “I wouldn’t talk about acting or not like a high schooler after that speech of yours,” He says, turning back to where Hinata seems to have decided to climb Inuoka, for some reason.

“Aye,” Tetsuro rolls his eyes. “It’s tradition. Kuroo Tetsuro.” He holds out a hand at the man. “You were?”

Tsukishima glares at his hand, then at Tetsuro’s face. “Tsukishima Kei.” He answers, not taking the offered hand, for a second he looks like he’s going to say something else, but they’re called up to play.

He can still feel that gaze, sharp, and inquisitive, and righteously annoyed through the rest of the practice.

.

.

If Kei were someone else, maybe this would be easier.

If Kei were someone who was likely to hum or sing under his breath in front of other people, or even go up to someone else and ask them a deeply personal question. Like Hinata, maybe, except he's not going to join those two thoughts, because he's not going to outright think that being more like Hinata would benefit him _ever_ , in any way.

Alas, he's not that person or like Hinata at all. They're resting between sets of their fourth match so far against Nekoma, and it's shaping up to be another loss.

Kuroo is the captain of the other team, he talks a lot, he yells a lot. Every time he sounds more and more like that scarcely heard voice in the back of Kei's head.

And, alright, if he's Kei's soulmate he has no idea how he's going to feel because while attractive he _is_ infuriating, managing to annoy Kei in record time. But then if he leaves this place without finding out he knows it's going to bug him, and Akiteru will notice, and Tadashi will notice, and it might end up being more trouble than anything else.

For all he knows, he might well be wrong.

Kei takes a long drink from his sports bottle. Sets it on the ground and stands, bent at the waist, fingers reaching for the tips of his toes.

"Tsukki?" Tadashi asks looking up from beside Kei. "Are you ok?"

Kei exhales, long and hard. "Just a cramp," He answers, looking away. "Do you think they're ever gonna let us stop?" The sky outside is already fading into orange, light just slightly scarcer, it smells like dying spring and Kei's tired.

"Well, I think Hinata can go in well into the night." Tadashi sighs. "What do you think his mom feeds him?"

A snort makes its way out of Kei's dry throat. "Whatever it is, she's feeding it to Kageyama too." He says, looking over to where Kageyama's alternating between glaring at Nekoma's setter -who is talking to Hinata- and bouncing a ball against the wall. "Or maybe he's just jealous, whatever."

Tadashi chuckles at that, voice squeaking a little. Kei looks around, no one is close enough to hear if he does this. He walks over to the empty bench making a show of rubbing at his thigh as he lifts it to the bench, and folds his body over it, just far enough that it stings a little.

From here he can see the whole court. Yamaguchi is lounging on the floor, Tanaka is piggybacking Nishinoya. Kuroo is sitting with his team, talking to a shorter guy with a buzz cut.

So Kei begins humming. It's an old song from a British band that his mom likes, one he grew up listening to. It's decent, not generic enough to be recognizable. Not as embarrassing as some random anime opening, that's for sure.

This would be so much easier if he had his headset, he would only need to sit there and listen, but it's tucked away in his bag and Sugawara is sure to get mad if he goes to get it in the middle of practice.

_Never again._

_Is what you swore._

_The time before._

But Kuroo's shoulders shake, Kei can hear him laughing, even from here and not for a second do those eyes leave his teammate's face.

Kei turns his eyes away.

Something at the very center of his belly twists painfully.

.

.

It is easy to forget about his suspicions after that, but not about Kuroo.

No, Kuroo remains, Kei likes to believe it’s just because he plays the same position.

It probably is.

.

.

"My name is Haiba! Lev! Haiba Lev!" Despite the good foot of height that the silver-haired first year has on the little orange one from Karasuno, Tetsuro can't help but be reminded of him. He’s the last of the first years to introduce himself.

For a second, at least.

He has known Yaku for the better part of two years, and with the way that their team plays, Tetsuro is very used to noticing minute shifts in the man's stance.

So when Yaku stiffens, the same way every other person does, Tetsuro _knows_. He doesn't need to see the little spark of wonder in his eyes before the silver-haired teen trips over his own feet and it turns to annoyance. Yaku sputters. "Have you ever played volleyball before?" He asks, softly, automatically.

"Well, no." The other rushes to say loud and not at all embarrassed. "But I think I'd be good and I can learn! I want to be the Ace."

Somewhere to Tetsuro's right, Yamamoto stiffens and he can't contain a quiet chuckle. 

As for Lev, he doesn't seem to have noticed yet, he's probably too nervous and Yaku didn't sound like he usually does just now. Tetsuro leans forward, hands on his hips, swallowing a sigh. "Why do you think you would be good? Do you have experience with sports in general?"

There's a moment of awkward silence in the gym. "I used to play basketball in middle school." Lev's lips press tight together and he bows, bending at the waist at ninety degrees. "I'll be in your care."

Tetsuro does look back to Yaku then, he knows he's going to find it there, that hesitance.

From what he has seen, when it comes to soulmates meeting, there are two, probably three kinds. The first one, the improbable one is the kind that doesn't realize at all. It's contained within the other two because, of course, one or both people realize eventually and then one of the other scenarios happens. Those are pretty straightforward, the first one is, both people recognize the other's voices at around the same time and they either go all shy or freak out on each other. They then proceed to skip off into the sunset or whatever.

The other one is the one that Tetsuro is seeing right here, with one of his best friends. Yaku has realized, he supposes, because Lev has a relatively distinctive voice and a -barely-there, but enough to be noticeable- accent. While Lev is looking up from the bow he's in, all nervous, the backs of his thighs shaking just slightly. And Yaku has no idea if he should speak up, or wait or melt into the ground. Because of course, his soulmate would be a two-meter tall klutz a whole two years younger than him.

"Don't stand like that, you're gonna fall over," Tetsuro says, grinning. "You're tall, but if you really haven't played before, we're going to need to teach you the very basics first." He swings an arm around Yaku's shoulders, the other is trembling, just slightly. "You'll work with our dear libero here on receives today, ok?" Yaku's gaze on Tetsuro's face is incredulous.

"Kuroo, I'm not a babysitter," he growls, and his eyes tell Tetsuro that he knows he has noticed -it's not like he hasn't complained about the overly cheery and loud voice. Or the fact that he occasionally listens to Christmas carols in a foreign language, for a whole two years, or like he doesn't know that Tetsuro notices these things-. "He's surely not going to be a libero, don't you think it would be better if he started with blocking."

Tetsuro tuts at him. "Basics, my friend." he laughs. "Have some patience, I'll leave him in your care."

Lev is watching them intently now, green eyes drifting between their two faces, suspicious.

Oh, there it is.

"Kuroo!" Yaku hisses and yes, there it is, Lev's eyes open wide, his jaw falls open.

"Yaku-san." Lev's voice is just as soft as Yaku's was a second ago. "Sing something."

Yaku frowns. "What the-? No!" he marches off towards the ball cart. "C'mon! Yamamoto, serve for us!"

"Fine, then I will!" Lev calls as he follows after Yaku.

And though Tetsuro never does hear his soulmate save for the few times where he slips with his medication, he knows all too well how Lev's off-pitch humming is resonating in Yaku's brain.

Tetsuro turns to the rest of the team. "C'mon, nothing to see there. We can't fall behind."

.

.

"Well, I was half-right Bakageyama!" Hinata screeches, his pen clattering to the floor, loud in the quiet club room. "You weren't closer than me!"

"My answer was closer Boke!" Kageyama snaps, shoving at Hinata's shoulder.

"But my answer times two is the right answer!" Hinata snaps back. "I'm less wrong than you!"

"Are not."

"Are too."

"Are not!"

"Am too!!"

"Are not! Boke!" Kageyama's palm slaps the top of the table and he and Hinata look like they are three seconds from a full-on hair-pulling, eye-gouging catfight. Which would be hilarious but also not, because their sempais would place blame on Kei as the most physically imposing -or at least the tallest present- for not stopping them.

It's amusing to watch, but Kei doesn't want to have to clean the blood off the floor or chance Hinata's deceptively strong little hands anywhere near his skin. "You were both wrong." He snaps. "How did you even get it wrong? I went over that last year."

And then their annoyed eyes that look just a little too animalistic are on him. Kei recoils. "Well, you didn't explain it well enough then, Mr. University Prep class!" Hinata hisses.

"I'd like to see you do it Saltyshima," Kageyama growls.

For a second Kei wants to pull out his hair. "I just did." he hisses. "All your genius went to volleyball, huh?" Kei grimaces at him. "At least you'll b able to make it a career." He side-eyes Hinata. "Not so sure what'll happen with you though."

And then Hinata _is_ trying to tear out Kei's hair, with his sticky little hands. That was probably going too far anyway and he doesn't seem all that serious anyway. "C'mon Hinata-kun," Yachi says as Yamaguchi pulls Hinata off Kei. "Let's go get some food from the vending machine."

Hinata glares at him one last time before he lets himself be dragged away. "Meaaan Saltyshima." he starts saying in a sing-song voice. "Meaaaan, meaaan."

Kageyama grimaces, stare fixed on the ground, arms folded over his crossed legs, teeth-gritting. "That moron." he hisses. "I can't believe-" Down the hall, Hinata keeps signing- if it can even be called that and Kageyama frowns even more.

He's not even glaring at Kei, that's something. "You can't believe he's a moron?" Kei drawls, going back to his own, nearly finished school work.

"What?" Kageyama's head snaps up. "No, he _is_ a moron, he's-" his whole face goes red and he looks away. "Nothing."

Kei's eyes narrow. "He's what?"

Kageyama glares at him. "Nothing. Explain that to me again before he comes back or starts singing, will you?" he says, shoving his notebook back towards Kei.

"Nuh-uh." Kei smirks. "You know you're really bad at hiding things?"

"Shut up," Kageyama growls.

"I'm going to show him that Hatsune Miku song." Kei can feel his smirk growing larger, it's not like he hasn't suspected this might be the case, only that it seemed unlikely that even _they_ could be this dense.

Kageyama isn't though, or so it seems. "Please don't."

"Oh, don't worry, I won't do it when you're around. I know you hate those things." Kei teases, snickering because Kageyama couldn't be more transparent.

Kageyama's face pinches further. "Since when do you know?"

"Three seconds ago," Kei answers, smug. "But I had my doubts, he had you humming the song from that one popsicle commercial all of last week. I really can't believe he's so dense." He laughs then, low and a little mocking. Kageyama is still glaring.

"I don't particularly like music," he says, turning to doodle in his notebook. "And don't tell him."

Kei rolls his eyes. "Right, you've got a volleyball for a brain." He really wonders what that's like. He can't survive a week when his headsets inevitably stop working without running to the store for a replacement. "And fine, but you really should, then maybe you two can yell at each other inside your heads."

Kageyama huffs, but his face is a lot less pinched by the time that Hinata comes back and tosses a milk carton at him. He also sits closer to him than he does to Kei.

The setter’s words stay with him though, and in the sticky, too wet heat of late spring, Kei wonders if it's all just that his soulmate isn't much of a music person either.

.

.

"Shouyo is not with them," Kenma says beside him.

It might be a bit telling that Tetsuro hasn't noticed, despite his height, Shrimpy has an aura about him. Tetsuro was talking to Karasuno's captain and then, he was looking at Tsukishima. Though maybe because after Hinata he's the one that stands out the most, maybe also because the first thing that the blond does after getting off the bus is glare in Tetsuro's general direction. "Neither is their setter," he answers Kenma. "They had issues with their exams, it seems."

"Shouyo does seem like the type." Kenma's lip pushes out into a pout. "I don't think they're going to be that fun to play with like this."

Humming, Tetsuro's eyes scour over the black-clad team. "Their seniors are decent at least, shame the other first years don't play that much."

"The blond one does." Kenma's tone is sly.

Tetsuro huffs. "You know what I meant." His eyes find the blond again, he's sitting on the ground, legs spread, hands reaching for his feet. "He would make a good middle blocker. Good head on his shoulders."

"Hey! Who are you looking at Bro?!" Suddenly there's a heavyweight leaning on him. "Didja, maybe..." Bokuto asks, eyebrows flying up to his hairline, bird-like eyes wide.

Tetsuro narrows his eyes at the owl. "No? Bo, you know-"

"Yeah, yeah," Bokuto grumbles. "Anyway, what were you looking at? You look like you're planning something."

"Nothing, just Karasuno didn't bring two of their first years." Tetsuro turns to him. "You know? The ones with the crazy quick." he gestures around himself.

Bokuto gives him a look that betrays that he's not convinced, but then Akaashi calls him away and he perks up, slipping away to pounce on the other man. Tetsuro knew Bokuto for a year before Akaashi came into the picture, they were apparently the first type of soulmates. The skip into the sunset type. Akaashi showed up to practice and introduced himself and they both just knew. Bokuto tells it in a much more sentimental way though, something about lullabies and Akaashi having the voice of an angel.

They're cute, whatever else, they're cute.

.

.

Kuroo Tetsuro, middle blocker, captain of Nekoma, and definitely _not_ Kei's soulmate is _staring_.

Like intensely staring, and Kei doesn't know how to feel. He wishes he could just stop hearing the guy because he doesn't know how to feel about the fact that his voice is so familiar.

The fact that they are losing, badly, humiliatingly, over and over again doesn't help.

And the loud guy with the silver hair from Fukurodani -not to be confused with the loud guy with silver hair from Nekoma- already almost murdered Kei once with a ball.

At least the tide starts turning a little when Hinata and Kageyama finally manage to arrive, Kei hopes they passed the exams and didn't just knock out the teacher or something, they look feral enough for that. Although, to be fair they didn't do that badly. Besides Kei would take any help now, even if it's theirs, he's fallen wrong in the diving drills like three times already and every time he feels like he's going to tear his face off on the gym floor.

Though some small recess of him may want to, Kei doesn't speak to Kuroo Tetsuro. There's no reason for him to, after all, they have exchanged barely three sentences with each other so far.

And so the day goes on, and so does the night. he'd like to say that he sleeps well but Kei, though adaptable, can't escape the racket in his head that starts right after dinner. Why must his soulmate be so bent on screeching random anime songs at the top of his lungs whenever he deigns to grace Kei with his voice?

He has considered taking the pills that make it so he can't listen. Hell, he would but this is not a very common occurrence, he'd be neck-deep in those if it were.

God, no one has a voice this disastrous, the guy must be doing it on purpose.

Kei has tried very position of the pillow around his ears and even shoved his headset on by the time that Hinata -not subtly at all- slips into the room. He glares at the other. "Where were you?"

"Karaoke." He shrugs. "Sort of, Bokuto-san was-"

"Shut up and let people sleep for once!" Kageyama hisses from where he's hunched under his covers. Kei noticed he couldn't sleep either a while ago, but there wasn't much he could do about that, was there?

Though maybe they were in a bit of the same boat. "Oh, shush Bakageyama, I've been downstairs all this time."

Hinata says, slipping into his futon and Kageyama groans. Maybe it's time they make Kageyama sing something, even that one Hatsune Miku song, otherwise, he is going to go crazy.

Kei sighs, laying back down, at east his soulmate seems to have calmed down.

.

.

Ok, now Tetsuro can admit that he has a little crush.

A little one, ok?

He's talked o the guy once, and he's cute and totally uninterested in him, and that's complete and absolutely fine.

He even manages to avoid thinking of or talking about him in the days between the weekend training camp and Golden week. And he's very damn proud of himself for that.

Of course, the little crush almost has him stopping in his tracks when he goes to bring Karasuno's team to the gym on the first day of golden week. Tsukishima is standing to the side, turned to his green-haired friend that Tetsuro can't name, he has a headset around his neck -he's seen said headset a few times now, Tetsuro has never been one to listen to music that much because of his whole issue with the soulmate thing, but he wonders for a second there how much music Tsukishima's soulmate must get to listen to if the blond uses those even half as much as it seems that he does- and is looking very annoyed.

And somehow Tetsuro's brain registers that small furrowing of his nose as cute.

Ugh. he takes a deep breath of the light summer air and turns to Sawamura, who is whispering something in the ear of his vice-captain, exchanging little secret smiles with him like they are the only people in the world.

Ah, so that's how it is.

The day passes in a bit of a fog, a warm, bright fog that smells of new rubber.

And his eyes, his eyes find themselves drawn to Tsukishima on more than one occasion. 

Tetsuro tells himself that it's not like _that._

It's just that Tsukishima could be _good._ It's in his muscles, in the way that even during rallies his eyes remain sharp and analytic. In how he and Kenma keep having little outsmarting contests without having crossed even two words.

But he isn't trying. He does the bare minimum unless a play particularly interests him and they rarely do. It's not that he's bad, he's constant but in the midst of his teammates who are all evolving, he stands out like a sore thumb.

It's not like he can butt in and point it out during regular practice though, so Tetsuro watches from afar. Yeah, this one could be great if he tried.

By the end of practice, he finds himself dragged away to the other gym by Bokuto and Akaashi, with Lev in tow since he still does suck majorly at receives and has somehow softened Yaku into only bullying him a little. Further proof of that is the way he all but dies halfway into practice, and Bokuto takes the chance to try and steal Tetsuro away to block for him and Akaashi.

Which would be good, but that's when Tetsuro catches a familiar silhouette out of the corner of his eye. Tsukishima is quickly making his way over to the rooms, with those long legs of his, drinking copiously from a water bottle. And Tetsuro gets an idea, maybe it's not a very good one, considering his -small- crush on the guy but... Tsukishima starts lifting those headphones of his over his head and Tetsuro decides. "Hey, you, with the glasses! Tsukishima was it?" Yeah, make it look like he doesn't even remember the name, luckily Kenma isn't here, he'd totally oust the fact that Tetsuro does remember. "Can you maybe jump a few blocks for us?"

The blond turns, eyes incredulous, before he schools his features into a picture of perfect complacence and answers. "Sorry, I'm all done for the day. You have a good night"

Stubborn, that he does seem to be, these are three upperclassmen talking to him and he's flat out refusing them. "C'mon," Tetsuro calls. "There's no point in practicing any spiking without blockers."

Tsukishima grimaces. "Why does it have to be me? What about your own guys?"

Akaashi intervenes next, a sly, amused smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Nah, Bokuto-san's the worst, his spiking practice goes on forever. It's like he never stops."

"And I've been too busy training this bumbling idiot over here," Tetsuro says, looking over to Lev who has let himself sprawl on the ground like some too large heap of clothing.

"I already said I'd jump all those blocks. I swear, ok?" Lev whines from where he's laying.

Tetsuro rolls his eyes. "If you wanna be part of the starting line you'll have to get a lot better at receives, and since you seem to spend all your time with Yaku making out..." Tetsuro snickers.

Lev bristles. "I do not- We do- I wish-" he mutters, and then promptly shuts up because Yaku has a way of finding out about everything ever. And it's probably not wise for him to be mouthing off with how tense the third-year was that whole first week after Lev first showed up.

"He may not look it-" he says pointing at Bokuto. "-is one of the top five aces in the Nation, he'll be some awesome practice." Tetsuro turns to grin at Bokuto and pats his shoulder. "I think he's still upset he's not on the top three, though. There, there."

The shoulder stiffens under his palm. "Hey Bro! Why'd you say all those nice things just to tear me down. "Bokuto whines, scooting over closer to Akaashi, who rolls his eyes fondly.

Tetsuro turns to Tsukishima again, who has managed to regain his look of bored disinterest. Oh ht, he isn't going to allow. "Anyway, skinny jeans, "Tsukishima immediately shoots him a death glare that makes Tetsuro smirk, that _is_ it. "You're a middle blocker, don't you think you should practice your blocking once in a while pal?" The blond goes a little red, and in the cal night the hitch of his breath is a gunshot, yes that's it, Tetsuro knows he has him.

Being observant gives him that advantage, Tsukishima knows full well that he's being baited but he's clearly too prideful and stubborn to not take the bait.

Something giddy and something triumphant battle inside Tetsuro's chest as Tsukishima walks right past the three of them and into the gym.

And for about half an hour it all goes right. Tsukishima’s blocks are a bit weak but he’s smart enough to be reading Bokuto like a book after a few spikes. Now if he would only put some more power behind his hands.

Tetsuro joins him, hoping the blond will figure that out from the way he plays. He doesn’t seem like the kind to take instructions all that well and Tetsuro annoyed him into this, so it might be better not to push.

But well, it’s hard not to step on completely unmarked landmines he figures. And It’s plain he has. As soon as he makes the comment about Hinata surpassing him whatever ease has found it’s way onto Tsukishima’s face as they played melts away, he’s back to that complacent mask. "There's a big difference in potential between Hinata and me." The blond says, rubbing the back of his head.

And is he fucking serious? He has to jump half the height Hinata has to jump to be a threat and he has a decent game sense. Who’s got more potential? Tetsuro is struck speechless, and of course that’s when Inuoka comes in and gives the blond the perfect out. “Are you practicing spikes again? Want me to block for you? I’d be happy to.”

Tsukishima smiles, small and bitter and fake. “It seems like my job here is done.”

Akaashi and Bokuto come up to him to tease him for what Tetsuro already knows he’s just done.

He pissed Tsukishima off.

.

.

Kei doesn't like being compared to other people. But he likes even less when they treat this like it's something that important, and when they lay on him for not doing the same. Being realistic, most of them are going to have absolutely nothing to do with volleyball after high school. Except for the freaks like Kageyama, of course.

That's something he has thought of often before, but for some reason, it's been bouncing around inside his head all day. 

What gives Kuroo the right?

What gives _any_ of them the right? It's his business how he plays and how much effort he puts into it. 

He huffs, Kuroo's talking to his captain now, what the hell?

Well whatever, not his problem.

And the day just gets worse from then on out, it's too hot here and too humid and his legs are full of fucking mosquito bites. Hinata keeps pestering him, and when Bokuto approaches him to try and drag him to practice again, it's like the annoying ginger gets a second wind. Kei really wonders if he might be able to carry a sign with 'none of your business' in big bold black letters without getting Suga on his case.

And then, the cherry on top of the cake.

Even Tadashi, Tadashi who _knows_. Who should be a lot more rational, but then who's Kei to tell him that? And just as well, who's Tadashi to do this? "Kei feels his lip twitch in a bitter little arch. "Fine, let us say I tried really hard and became the best player at Karasuno. What comes after that? On the off chance, we get to go to National championships what comes next? There's always another level, to get to, no matter how high up you get, you can never be number one. Which means we'll eventually lose. Everyone knows that! What's the point what makes you guys keep pushing? Why does it even matter?"

In all Kei has known him, Tadashi has never raised his voice at him, not as he does now. "Don't be an idiot! What do you need more than pride?!" He knows Tadashi, Tadashi knows him. And yet here the boy is, grabbing him by his shirt like they're in some sort of drama and glaring at Kei with eyes overflowing with angry tears.

Kei feels bile rise up his throat and the corners of his eyes itch, he can feel his face twisting in anger. But Tadashi... Tadashi is serious and as much as he tries to fight the feeling, as much as he tries to come up with explanations that justify Tadashi being wrong, he can't find even one. 

He takes a deep breath, and what leaves his throat is only a choked up snort. "How about that? The day finally came." He looks upon Tadashi, feeling a bit lighter like the air isn't horribly humid and heavy. "When the hell did you become such a badass? You're cool now. But still, I'm not convinced, I'll go ask them." No, he is not convinced at all, but he also can't convince himself of the opposite. If anything he'll claim temporary insanity, his team will have to put up with it, they put up with Kageyama and Hinata's whatever it was the last two weeks. And Kuroo and the Fukurodani people, they don't seem like the kind to mind.

Ugh, he's really doing this, isn't he? Still, he walks a little faster than usual towards the gym's entrance, until, well...

"Oya."

"Oya, oya."

"Oya, oya, oya."

Well, he's here, he might as well ask.

.

.

"You think maybe that's cuz you suck at it?" God, Tetsuro is prepared for the blond to just turn away, offended. But he actually listens to Bokuto, still looking a lot like he doesn't really believe him and also like he's a little scared. Bokuto can be a little intense.

But Bokuto is really in one of his better moments, speech wise, even Tetsuro can feel himself getting a little riled up from listening to him.

And then, of course, he only needs one look at Bokuto before they both push Tsukishima further into the room.

Well, he's already here, isn't he? They might as well get him to play for a bit.

.

.

Ok, maybe it wasn't a world-ending, temporary madness-claiming idea.

But god, Kei is dying here.

Bokuto's spikes are not a joke and the last few times Kei almost caught them, so that means they've been bouncing off his hands.

Which, taking into account that the guy is built like those gym-crazy people that live a couple of houses down from him, means that his hands hurt, a lot.

Add all the jumping to that, and well... his mom says he had mild asthma as a child, though it's supposed to be cured Kei's sure he shouldn't feel this out of breath. He is leaning forward on his knees panting, while Kuroo is standing beside him looking mildly winded and just the right amount of sweaty, which isn't fair because he also sounds like-

Oh, Kei promised himself he wouldn't think about that and he _won't_.

Still... Kuroo's not a bad teacher. "First, become conscious," Kuroo said a while ago, and Kei's trying but he's sure he's becoming conscious of all the wrong things.

Usually, it's the first year's role to clean up but Lev is not here and apparently, all these infuriatingly nice people don't have the heart to make Kei pick up all the equipment, so they help him. Kei is helping Akaashi take down the net when Bokuto starts humming some song from a game show that Kei's parents watch and Akaashi groans. "Bokuto-san, please don't," He says, looking over at his captain. "Just, think of something else."

"But 'kaashi, I like it, it's catchy! Bokuto calls from where he's picking up balls. "Uh, 'kaashi. Catchy, it rhymes!"

Akaashi gives the other a long-suffering sigh. "It took me a week to get that out of my head," he grumbles.

Though Bokuto's already off to the ball cart, he hears. "I know babe, sorry?"

What? Akaashi seems to notice Kei's gaze as he hands him this end of the net. "Soulmate," he says simply as they walk over to the storage room.

"Ah," Kei says, gaze drifting between him and Bokuto, who's lugging the ball cart beside them. They seem to have very... contrasting personalities. 

Bokuto grins at him. "Damn right we are." he says, gaze softening as it falls on Akaashi. "kaashi really doesn't like game shows now though."

The setter rolls his eyes. "You hum every song," he says, and even though it's exasperated, it also sounds like he would have any stupid song Bokuto wanted to sing, no matter what it was.

Suddenly, he feels like he's intruding a little.

Until an arm falls over his shoulders and he hears Kuroo's voice beside his ear. "Oh, so you brought Tsukki up to speed." It's a deep voice, drawling, familiar. "That's right, I'm stuck with these lovebirds. Or I was I guess if you decide to keep training with us."

"Is that why you called me over yesterday? To get away from the flirting?" Kei is tired, but he also feels a little like teasing, it's weird, at least it doesn't come out aggressive.

Kuroo blinks at him. "Well no." he seems startled, like he didn't expect his answer. "But I'm not gonna turn away another single person to train with," he grins and then whispers. "They make out a lot."

"We do not." Akaashi counters form the storage room, Kei has no idea when he went in there, but there is a pink cast to his cheeks. "And for all you know, Tsukishima has his soulmate."

"Yeah." Bokuto joins in stepping away from the ball cart. "Just 'cuz you're all weird about soulmates doesn't mean everyone has to be." He looks at Kei with those wide, hypervigilant eyes. "So do you?"

"Do I?" Kei shrugs.

"Aww c'mon, don't be like that." The owl says, leaning forward so he's uncomfortably close. "Are they cute?"

Kei recoils, right, these people don't get intimidated or embarrassed that easily. Even with questions that are supposed to be personal. He sighs. "I haven't met them." he rolls his shoulders back, pushing Kuroo's arm off. "And I don't hear much from them either."

"But I bet they hear a lot form you." Kuroo blurts out. Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kei turn to look at him with puzzled gazes. "I-I mean you're always wearing that headset."

"Ah, yes," Kei answers mildly, strange that Kuroo noticed that. "Probably, I don't care that much about that stuff."

Beside him, Bokuto groans. "We have another grinch in our midst Akaashi."

Akaashi grimaces. "Please don't remember the grinch Boku-"

And just like that, Bokuto starts humming 'you're a mean one, Mr. Grinch and Akaashi looks like he wants to cover his ears, even though it would probably not help at all "Please?"

Bokuto pouts. "Aw fine, but really, at least you'll listen to them. Kuroo has those pill-"

"Bokuto-" Akaashi hisses.

Pills? Kei turns to Kuroo' whose face has suddenly closed up and turned darker. "Really?"

The dark-haired man gives him a wry smile. "I'd rather choose who I date." He says. "It's nothing personal." He keeps looking at Kei like he's expecting the blond to launch into a tirade or something.

But it's not his business, is it? Unless- Nah, that would be too much of a coincidence. "That sounds like a smart plan," Kei says, looking away from Kuroo's face.

"Wait, wait, wait." Bokuto stops him, one of his heavy hands lands on Kei's shoulder. "You really think so?"

Kei rolls his eyes. "My parents aren't soulmates." he cranes his head to the side staring into Bokuto's eyes. "They're doing just fine."

"Ha!" Kuroo exclaims, that arm again falling around Kei's shoulders. "See? I'm not a weirdo."

It's really lucky that Kuroo's eyes are on Bokuto's face because Kei can't help but stare at the way he grins then.

.

.

So maybe dumping all that on Tsukishima was a bit extreme.

They split from Bokuto and Akaashi after leaving the gym, god knows what those two were going to do.

Bokuto has known from the start -granted, he has always thought it was silly and Tetsuro is going to slip with his pills one day and then he'll wake up to birdsong and lullabies or something, and he'll tell Bokuto that he was right,- but Bokuto has only known since Bokuto met Akaashi and the topic became unavoidable.

The blond is silent as they walk to the building that’s serving as dorms for the week. He walks past the stairs to the vending machine.

Is he always this silent? Tetsuro doesn't know him well enough.

The blond's shoulders are sagging, his movements are sluggish and he's not looking at Tetsuro. "I didn't think you'd be that kind."

Tsukishima's eyes glare at him from under heavy lids. "When people say that they usually explain what they're talking about." He grumbles. "Unless it's a pickup line if it's a pickup line I don't want to know."

"Prickly." Tetsuro hums. "Not a pickup line, I meant the soulmate people."

One of Tsukishima's blond eyebrows rises. "As far as I know most people have soulmates."

Ok, that may have been unclear. "Like the ones who don't care that much about soulmates?" Tetsuro shrugs. "I mean, most people make a big deal about them."

"Do I look that idealistic?" Tsukishima hums, punching a code into the vending machine. "Why do you care? It's not like I'm your soulmate or anything."

Tetsuro stops to think for a second "Well I wouldn't know." He reminds the blond. "But I'm curious." He leans into the machine, taking in the way that the fluorescents inside illuminate Tsukishima's profile. "C'mon Tsukki."

Tsukishima steps aside, rolling his eyes. "I can see that." He sighs and now it's Tetsuro's turn to stare into the machine -though he already knows what he's going to get- while Tsukishima speaks. "I just don't think anything's that absolute. Not with people. And my parents were already together when the whole soulmate thing happened, neither of them went off chasing some random voices in their head and they're fine." He glares at Tetsuro for a second. "How does it-" he hesitates. "Those pills, how does it feel taking them?"

Tetsuro bends down to retrieve his coffee. "Quiet." he grins at the blond. "I hadn't heard anything yet when I started taking them so I don't have much to compare it to." Tsukishima hums and Tetsuro feels the need to speak again. "Hey, thanks for being so neat, people can get weird when they find out."

"Weird how?" Tsukishima takes a sip of his strawberry milk. 

"Weird like I'm some sad little headcase?" Tetsuro runs his free hand through his hair.

Tsukishima snorts. "That's clearly not the case." His eyes crinkle a little at the edges. "Are you having coffee?" he says, with a look that's equal parts mocking and amused.

"You're having strawberry milk, I don't think you have a right to judge my beverage," Tetsuro says, taking a sip of it. "Besides, I'm studying for entrance exams, there's a math worksheet with my name on it upstairs."

"That explains it." The blond huffs, looking out at the courtyard and the hill. "Except that we're in August."

"Ah, but I'm the captain," Tetsuro responds staring in the same direction as Tsukishima. "If things go right I'm only going to be getting busier."

There's surprise in the blond's face, and also a little bit of admiration. "You didn't seem like the planning type."

"You thought I was just a guy who gives good speeches?" He says with a smirk. "I'm top of my class, you know?"

Tsukishima smirks back if you're studying after that, you better be." He takes another sip of the strawberry milk. "I'm going up, though, I'm beat."

"I'll stay out here for a bit more." Tetsuro waves at him and allows himself just one more glance at the way that soft hair curls in the damp summer night. "Sleep well Tsukki."

The blond is already halfway up the stairs but he still calls over his shoulder. "It's Tsukishima!"

.

.

Kei doesn't want to have to think this to himself, but he has his pride.

So he shows up and keeps showing up. At least Tadashi isn't down here, he’s still being a little weird and with all that’s happening Kei needs a second. Besides, however many dirty looks Hinata gives him, it's actually very satisfying that he can shut the ginger down so much. 

He's still a ways off from stopping Bokuto when he hits them hard, but it's a start.

Besides, Kuroo isn't completely annoying. 

When they finally -finally- get Hinata and Bokuto tired enough to finish practice, they all head back to the rooms, Hinata, as usual, runs over to into Nekoma's probably to play videogames with their setter. Kei is about to head up the stairs when he feels a tug on his shirt. "Vending machine? I'll treat you?"

His legs hurt, and he almost says no but knowing Tadashi he's sitting up on his futon with that stubborn yet a little ashamed look on his face, and maybe if Kei takes long enough to get there Tadashi will go to sleep and he can stall that until tomorrow, or even after, it’s the last day, it ought to be busy. That grin that's quickly becoming familiar tips the scales.

But Kei wouldn't admit that to himself so he huffs. "You're studying tonight too?"

Kuroo starts walking in the opposite direction, and Kei follows. "Nope." he looks back. "I'm joining you on the milk tonight. I prefer chocolate, though."

Kei pauses in the middle of the hallway. "Then why?"

"I want a drink?" Kuroo shrugs. "You're not the worst person to talk to, you know?"

Tadashi's screaming face flashes in his head and his hand comes up to adjust his headset around his neck. "I'm just going for the milk."

"I'll be sure to note that down Tsukki," Kuroo says and continues walking. 

"Tsukishima." Kei hisses as he follows him down to the machine. Kuroo retrieves the two boxes of milk quickly and tosses one to Kei, who barely grabs it out of the air.

"Too long," Kuroo smirks. "And Tsukki's cute."

The night is warm and the sounds of cicadas are all around them. The older man steps over to the courtyard and goes to sit at the foot of the hill. "C'mon Tsukki it's a nice night."

Kei could go back, put on his headset, ignore Tadashi.

But Kuroo looks good there in the dim light that seeps from the lights on the side of Shinzen's building.

.

.

Tsukishima is coming over.

He is.

Tetsuro threw the invitation out expecting the blond to reject it. 

But he's walking over here with his long, pale legs and the box of strawberry milk in his hand.

Tetsuro feels his heartbeat pick up. It has been easy to slip into a sort of teaching role, it distracts him, and now that he's gotten through to Tsukishima if only slightly, the blond is pretty receptive.

But they're not on the court now, when Tsukishima flops down beside him Tetsuro realizes that they're level with each other and the blond feels like he's too close. 

Under his hands, the grass is damp with dew. The blond takes a sip of his milk and slaps a hand over his leg. "Why are there so many mosquitoes here?" he grumbles.

Tetsuro chuckles. "C'mon, it's not that many." Tetsuro glances at Tsukishima's legs which are full of little red dots. "Man, they're eating you up," he exclaims, hand brushing over a painful-looking one on Tsukishima's left shin.

Tsukishima gives him a sour look. "I'm basically mosquito bait," he huffs. "And we sweat so much here it's no use to put on repellent." 

As their gazes meet, Tetsuro realizes that the blond hasn't moved away from his touch. "Thiamine!" he blurts out though he wasn't thinking about the mosquito bites at all. Tsukishima's head cranes to the side, puzzled. "I mean for the mosquito bites." Tetsuro clarifies. "Start taking it a week before you travel, it helps."

The blond breathes in, deep and shaky. "Right, thanks." he glances at Tetsuro's legs which only show a bunch of scars from when he was a kid. "I'll keep that in mind."

Tetsuro looks away, pulls his hand back. The silence feels loaded, or maybe it's just the summer air, it's dense like it's waiting for sparklers, or fireflies, or festivals, or anything summery. "Hey, your name can also be read as Hotaru, right?" He says and beside him, Tsukishima laughs, low and short, like he didn't mean for the sound to leave his throat.

"Everyone just has to ask that at least once." he rolls his eyes but there's humor in his voice. "Yeah, my parents picked the Kanji before they picked out the pronunciation."

It's strange, Tsukishima, despite his best efforts, seems to feel comfortable around Tetsuro whenever his guard isn't fully up. "That's genius!" Tetsuro laughs, you got a pretty name either way." Like right now, right now Tsukishima is tired and it's late at night and they're alone.

And there's this softness to him that just, calls to Tetsuro.

Somehow- "Can I ask you something?" The blond's brow is furrowed, the fingers of his free hand are tapping on the ground. 

Tetsuro shrugs. "Sure."

The blond seems to consider it for another second before he finally speaks. "Do you really not get any secondary effects with the pills?"

Actually, Tetsuro was expecting the other man to ask about the pills, but more along the lines of why he takes them. And he had his usual deflections prepared because people always want to know. After all, nearly everyone's obsessed with soulmates and some people can't understand someone who just isn't. Someone who has reasons not to be. But Tsukishima isn't those people, Tetsuro knows, he shouldn't have been expecting that. Still, even for one of the rare people that don't ask him why it's an atypical question. Tetsuro studies the blond's face. "Why do you want to know?"

"I just do." Tetsuro's face must betray that he doesn't believe that because Tsukishima sighs. "My soulmate can be a little loud. I'm not thinking of taking them all the time but..."

Humming, Tetsuro picks at the grass under him. "I thought you didn't hear much from them."

"I don't." Tsukishima answers. "But even then, sometimes I hear him at inconvenient times."

Tetsuro lifts his eyebrows at the blond. "Oh ho, so it's a him." Tsukishima just glares at him, so he continues talking. "I got some nausea at first," he responds. "And breakouts, oh god, there are no pictures of me from the last year of middle school. But that kind of passed, you just have to take them with food. And I get insomnia once in a hwhile, but that's not too common. I've never gotten any of the bad ones, tho'"

"Good," Tsukishima sighs. "I- that's good. Sorry. I bet it gets annoying to have people asking you about it."

His eyes find Tsukishima's, they look like clear honey. "You don't ask the annoying questions." Tetsuro smiles at him. "I like how you are-" Tetsuro knows he's blushing now, fuck. "With this, I mean, you're decent."

Tsukishima looks away quickly, cheeks dark. "I'm not thrilled by the idea of life throwing me a person and just- I don't know how people think it is nice."

"So you wouldn't want to meet him?" Tetsuro presses, he's gotten glimpses of this Tsukishima before, but this is a whole other thing.

The blond leans back, crumpling up the milk carton. "I wouldn't avoid him but-" he hums. "I don't know I'd prefer to actually know a person and not just that he sings anime songs."

"People miss their soulmates all the time." Tetsuro points out.

Tsukishima laughs again, god, he's starting to really like the sound of it. "Tell that to me," Tsukishima says. "My brother went to high school with his, and they didn't realize until she ran him over with her bike like a month ago."

"How old is your brother?" Tetsuro asks.

"He's twenty-one." Tsukishima answers.

Tetsuro feels his eyebrows shoot up. "That's a lot of time."

"I know." Tsukishima is looking at him again, with that look in his eyes, the one that made Tetsuro notice him to begin with. 

It's not his bright moment, and that look is disarming, Tetsuro startles and has to lean back to collect himself. In doing that, however, his hand, which was looking for support, falls square over Tsukishima's and somehow he doesn't have the good sense to move it because he's pinned by that look again.

And then he's too close and Tsukishima is too close, and later on, he remembers glancing at the blond's mouth, he remembers Tsukishima's lower lip caught between his own teeth. But how can so many little things have happened in such a little moment?

Because it was, it was a second, Tetsuro didn't have time to react or check who moved, because next thing he knew he and Tsukishima were caught kissing softly and one of his hands was on the blond's shoulder and-

He freezes. "Tsukki." 

It's soft, spoken against the other's lips. Tsukishima's eyes open a crack dazed."Is this ok?"

They live in different prefectures, they have no idea what they're doing, they- "It's ok." it comes out a half impatient grumble, half plea. And Tetsuro tries to be the mature one but he's swept away all the same. He presses his lips back over the blonds. 

Tsukishima doesn't stay still either, his tongue peeks out shyly to probe at Tetsuro's lower lip, and Tetsuro, much obliged, opens his mouth and takes it in, takes him in.

Somehow it's easy, like breathing. Tsukishima is both stubborn and pliant, brave, and surprisingly shy. Tetsuro has little experience with this but-

It's good.

It isn't until Tsukishima's phone rings that they come back to reality, and it's hard to tell how long they've been there, making out on the grass of Shinzen's hill. The blond takes a panicked look at his phone and then at Tetsuro. "It' Yamaguchi, he's probably worried I'm late," he says, standing up brusquely.

Tetsuro follows suit. "Tsukki," he calls.

The blond sucks his lower lip into his mouth. "Why-"

Now, Tetsuro should be the adult here 

So he is.

"Look, it's fine Tsukki." He says, hands rising in a placating gesture. "It's fine, right?"

"I-" The blond stammers. "Right- we got swept away-" he sighs "It's fine. We should go upstairs. Kuroo..."

Tetsuro nods, and just like that, it's back to he usual. "Don't worry Tsukki, I'll be the most discreet person ever"

And that's fine, it should be fine.

.

.

Kei is sitting off to the side in a bench all to himself for a reason. It should be pretty obvious but apparently, it doesn't deter Kuroo. At least so far the man has mostly acted normal. "What are you listening to, Megane-kun?" Kuroo asks, leaning towards Kei and he can feel the man's warm breath brushing over his cheek. "I always see you with that headset."

Kei recoils, eyes averting. "Nothing." He tugs the diadem back so the headset falls around his neck. He can still hear the crooning voice of the singer. 

"Are you not speaking to me now?" Kuroo leans forward on his knees. "I didn't think you were that kind of guy Tsukki."

He can feel the blush creeping up his face and though Kei's not looking at Kuroo, he can tell that he's grinning, smug. His tan skin takes on a golden hue in the midsummer sun. "Shut up." Kei hisses. "I thought you said you were discreet,"

"I am." Kuroo drawls. " don't think anyone would get 'you were shoving your tongue down my throat' vibes from that simple, innocent question." It's only then that Kei notices that those nimble fingers have managed to sneak yet another sausage into his plate.

"Hey!" Kei glares at him, and Kuroo just shoots him a grin, wide and amused. "Do you people want to see me burst?"

"You eat like you're Shrimpy's height." Kuroo rolls his eyes legs swinging off the little ledge while somehow, his plate remains steady on his thighs.

His muscular, tanned thighs.

Kei looks away. Of all the stupid choices to have made... At least he doesn't have to see Kuroo that often, not at all, really, unless both Karasuno and Nekoma make it to nationals and that might not even be the case.

Though he hopes it is, for their teams at least. 

He thinks back to Kuroo's words last night, it seems so very out of character for the other to see things like that. But then Kei has no real right to judge him and isn't it better for him that he made out with some guy that has no interest in soulmates? He's not the kind of person that would feel guilty about this, but it's even easier if he doesn't have to.

"So?" Kuroo asks after a moment of silence. "What were you listening to in your little corner of annoyance over here."

Kei bites his lip. "I thought you tried not to bother that soulmate of yours," he says.

Kuroo's lips press tight together, and Kei just knows he has said the wrong thing. Suddenly the sunny day, and the vibrant grass, and all the happy noise surrounding them seems wrong. So very wrong. "I'm generally pretty good about it." Looking to the side and stuffing a bit of sausage in his mouth. "They deal with me at most three times a week."

"You have a weekly quota?" Kei asks, smiling a little.

Kuroo's lips twist into a grimace. "I don't want to feel like an asshole."He looks down at his plate. "Besides you look like you might have interesting taste."

The wind picks up a little, and only then does Kei realize that He's close enough that the loose hairs at the top of Kuroo's head are brushing over his face. "I thought you didn't like music." 

Kuroo's gaze meets his, and Kei notices the flecks of hazel and gold in his iris. "I do enjoy it from time to time." It's like Kuroo can tell he's softening a little because he grins and Kei is suddenly annoyed.

What gives him the right to come and grin at him? To be tolerable enough that Kei really doesn't mind holding a conversation with him. To look all golden, and warm, and kiss Kei on the grass of the hill. "You really don't give up, do you?" He sets down his half-full plate beside him on the bench and carefully -always carefully, he likes the fancy ones and those are expensive as hell- pulls his headset off. 

The older man stares at Kei for a second, before putting away his plate and taking the offered headset form Kei's hands just as carefully. "Wow, I didn't think you were going to let me." he swallows looking down at them.

"I can take them back then?" Kei reaches, but Kuroo holds the headset out of his reach.

"No takebacks." he chuckles. "But wow, I'm gonna start thinking I'm special Tsukki." He says as he slips the headset over his ears.

Kei has something sharp to say to that, but it's there and gone.

Gone and he'll always wonder what it was because the moment the headset slips over Kuroo's ears it's like it is over his own. The song has changed, but it is familiar, one of Kei's favorites.

Fuck, he _wasn't_ wrong.

 _Fuck_.

Kuroo is his soulmate.

 _Kuroo_.

Kuroo who has no idea, who takes pills to not hear his soulmate, to not hear Kei.

Who is listening to Kei's music with his eyes closed and a small smile on his face?

_You said I came close_

_As anyone's come_

_To live underwater_

_For more than a month_

Thankfully, Kuroo's being absorbed in the music gives Kei enough time to compose himself. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and clasps his hands together tight enough that he's sure he's cutting off the blood supply. The sunshine is too bright, harsh on his eyes and the noise around him hurts his ears. And Kuroo looks at him with his brown eyes that definitely don't have little flecks of anything in their irises. "Huh, that's good actually, " he says, pulling the diadem off. "Sounds a bit dark but it suits you."

"Glad to know I'm the resident dark cloud." Kei bites back, a little too shaky and harsh.

The older man frowns. "Hey, you look pale, are you alright?" His hand reaches out for Kei's arm and he flinches. "Tsukki?"

Kei takes the headset from Kuroo's slack hands. "I feel a migraine coming." Is all he says as he stands, eyes already searching for Tadashi in the crowd, though he has no idea what he's going to say, only that he needs Tadashi or someone, anyone that's not Kuroo right now.

The sunlight is like a bolt of lightning to his eyes.

.

.

Message received?

Tetsuro supposes as he watches the blond run away from him like he’s been electrocuted.

Except…

Except it doesn’t feel right, it feels like he needs to get off his ass right now and go ask Tsukishima what the hell is wrong because something definitely is.

Because Tetsuro, Tetsuro likes him and-

And fuck careful what you wish for, right? He looks in every direction he can but Tsukishima is nowhere to be found, it should be easier to spot a blond head that rises above most others but so it seems, Tsukishima has left the courtyard altogether.

Tetsuro practically chokes on what’s left of his food and goes looking for the other, he looks in the courts, in the dorms, even in the bathroom, growing more and more breathless every time, but no one seems to have seen the blond and there’s no sign of him.

His phone starts ringing after a while. “Kuro, where are you?” Kenma’s voice calls from the other side.

“I was looking for someone.” Tetsuro tries to sound calm, he probably fails horribly. “Did something happen?”

“No, coach just told us to go say goodbye to the Karasuno team, they have to leave early because they have the longer trip.”

“Oh, I’m coming.” Tetsuro sprints, of course Tsukishima’s leaving early, that’s just what he needs right now. Still, there’s a feeling at the pit of his stomach that tells him he’s too late, that he has always been too late.

.

.

Kei spots Kuroo at the top of the stirs with everyone else as he takes his seat. He looks winded, leaning forward and racing on his knees. Was he looking for Kei?

And he’s glad.

Because he can’t face Kuroo right now, and yes, he knows that makes him a hypocrite. He knows he always has said that he didn’t much care about soulmates. And to be sincere he doesn’t know why he feels this terrible right now, he really shouldn’t, but it stands that he needs a second or he might just explode.

Or that’s how it feels at least.

He can apologize to Kuroo at some point, when he’s calmed down.

Besides, he's kind of doing the other a favor.


	2. I think I've seen this film before (and I didn't like the ending)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsukki realizes just how very fucked he is... and doesn't realize a bunch of other things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This is a bit later than I usually update, but life has been getting busy lately.  
> I have a playlist for this, but then I realized that I'm writing chronologically (and I'm a bit of a stickler for that) so I'm trying to keep the songs in their own time (which meant some searching for this chapter, lol, I was 16 in 2012 and I don't really remember what I listened to then.  
> Thanks to all of you for being so supportive!

**Autumn 2012**

Kageyama is frowning at his worksheet like it has done him a personal wrong.

And that's a bad, bad thing because Sawamura has put his foot down and until he finishes it, neither of them is getting into practice at least today -though it might be also because they started yelling at each other, but Kageyama does suck at English- until that worksheet is finished perfectly.

And Kei's headset is fried, has been since this morning.

"You know, if you really want to play professionally you're going to need that English." Kei smirks at him. "At least. If I were you I'd be learning a third one already."

Kageyama fixes him with a murderous glare. "Shut up, I'm almost done."

Kei stretches his neck, to peek at the paper, the sheet is not even half-filled. "Is it because Hinata isn't at practice today? Do you miss your little soulmate, King?"

"I'm taking extra time with this just for that." Kageyama threatens, blowing up his cheeks like a hamster. Hinata is picking his sister up from the dentist or something, his mom was busy, and though Kei knows this has a lot more to do with the setter just not being that good at the subject, he's not one to miss the chance. 

"Really?" Kei drawls. "Such a shame, I'm pretty sure you're gonna be way more bummed than me for not getting to go to practice."

The setter takes in a deep breath, and for a moment Kei is sure he's going to be found murdered via spare volleyball net. But in the end, he just huffs indignantly and turns his head away. "Can't you like, shut up? Play some music if you want to, or we're really going to be in here all night."

Kei glares at him, but Kageyama isn't wrong. He's not looking forward to another two hours with the man himself. And he doesn't care enough to actually do the assignment from Kageyama without at least getting to laugh at his answers once, so he goes for his backpack and unplugs his headset from his phone, pressing play on the very first song he comes across in his music app.

"Hey! What the hell?" Kageyama growls.

"Headset's broken." Kei shrugs, "Consider it an incentive to actually finish that thing sometime this century." Kageyama keeps on glowering at him, and it takes a second for Kei to get it. "Oh, lighten up, he's not even here."

"Do you think I wa-" Kageyama snaps and shakes his head. "Forget it." He looks back down to the piece of paper in front of him. "I really feel sorry for your soulmate, he lives with that racket."

To that, Kei can only hum. He almost bites back to Kageyama that his soulmate doesn't hear him at all, and so, Kei can listen to any godforsaken racket that he wants -though his taste is pristine, thank you very much-. But that would require him to care that Kuroo takes those pills and he doesn't good gods, he doesn't. If anything this just simplifies his life because he's not going to get some random idiot that starts fawning over him out of the blue one day, and who Kei would, at some point, end up hitting over the head with a frying pan.

Hell, now that he has rationalized it, he's more offended by the fact that Kuroo barely listens to actual music than about the pills.

He doesn't want Kei, what's the big deal?

He's a heathen who doesn't listen to music besides memes, _that_ is a big deal.

So, really, a point of uncertainty has been taken from his future and now he's more in control, he is, and whenever he dates someone the whole thing will be a lot less messy.

Though...

It might be neat if the pills worked both ways when only one person is taking them.

He does wonder where Kuroo is getting them, they're prescription. And apparently, they don't give them to minors unless they have a major issue with their soulmates or whatever. Kei's shrug and his admittance to the school counselor that his soulmate doesn't want one only got him a pitying look and forty-five very silent minutes out of the hour-long session. 

The floor of the club room is clean enough, so he lies down, closing his eyes and hoping to the gods that Kageyama hurries up, the soft music washing over him as he dozes off-

The door bursts open. "Kageyama, you're not gonna believe this! My soulmate is listening to this emo-" Hinata stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide, mouth falling open so far that Kei almost makes a comment about flies or larger animals since he's such a loudmouth.

But he's actually pretty decent at reading situations and he really, really doesn't want to be found murdered via spare net. "W-what, you were with your sister Boke!" Kageyama shouts, and ok, that's Kei's cue to go.

"My mom got off early!" Hinata shouts back. "What the fuck Bakageyama, why didn't you tell me?" His glare stops on Kei, who is inching for the door as quietly as he can. "You, did you know?"

Kei lifts his hands in a gesture of defeat. "Not my problem." Still, he can't help but add. "But really? It took you long enough." He says and slips out of the open door right after. Good lord, he really doesn't want to know what's going to go down in there.

Well, Kageyama is never going to finish that worksheet, so he goes down the stairs and into the gym. Sugawara smiles brightly at him. "Did you two finish studying then?" he asks like he knows they most definitely didn't.

Though to Suga's credit, it hasn't been nearly long enough for that and Kei probably looks like he just saw something scary. 

Which, he did.

"There was a bit of an issue." Kei answers dryly. "Oh, and Hinata showed up, we might be short a setter soon."

Sugawara's puzzled expression is not the only one, but Kei just walks past him. This is not his business to explain nor does he want to. 

It's not like he has asked Kageyama just why he wouldn't tell the ginger, so, really he'd only be confusing everyone else.

Tadashi walks up to him, Volleyball in hand. He leans up to Kei and grins at him. "But you _are_ going to tell me, right?"

Kei rolls his eyes, grabbing the volleyball from him. "I wanted to practice receives," he says. "Besides, I'm sure you'll all know bef-"

"-MY FUCKING SOULMATE!" The screech comes from right outside the gym door. Why do they keep coming Kei's way? "WAS IT FUNNY? I TOLD YOU I-" Kageyama bursts through the door, pale, face pinched like he's in pain. "I'M TALKING TO YOU BAKAGEYAMA! QUIT BEING A COWARD AND ANSWER!"

That does it though, the setter turns around, red-faced his fists clenched by his sides. "Well what was I supposed to say?!" he yells at Hinata who is walking towards him. "I don't care about it! I have more important things to do and I don't care about that. I don't want-" He stops in his tracks, but the damage is done. Hinata rushes forward and grabs Kageyama by the neck of his t-shirt.

No one is that dense. Hinata is always going on about how he wants to meet whoever they are, that they are too silent, that he cares, even if it's just to talk to them. And Kageyama, he probably has known since before they even got into Karasuno. It's clear that the last word of that sentence was going to be 'you', but even Kei's not cruel enough to point it out.

Sawamura's calm voice is the one that breaks the silence. "Hinata, Kageyama, come with me to the clubroom," He says, stern, but distracted, probably by the way that Hinata's face is pinched in anger but his eyes are growing wet. "Ennoshita," he calls for the second year. "You can lock up. See you all tomorrow.. Suga?" he turns to find Sugawara's gaze, but the silver-haired man is already halfway out of the door.

"On it, my captain." He calls, smiling reassuringly at Sawamura.

These two really are stereotypical soulmates. Kei knows them well enough by now to be aware that a whole conversation happened in that single look.

He'd like to think it's gross, he tells himself that's all it is when it curls in his belly like a snake.

And still, he barely notices Tadashi's stare.

**.**

**.**

Kei really does spend a good portion of the next week wondering if he was kidnapped by aliens, or somehow drugged, and he hallucinated the whole incident in the clubroom.

At least Tadashi seems to remember too, and Sawamura gets this polite little smile on his face when he looks at the idiot duo, so if it was a hallucination, at least it was semi-collective.

Kageyama and Hinata, however, are... normal.

Or sort of normal.

The day right after everything happened they showed up bickering, as usual, walking just as close and still getting into each other's faces.

Kei was so ready to make a comment on that, but then Sugawara caught him by the elbow and shot him a look that spelled doom if he -or anyone else, for that matter- brought the whole thing up.

It's not that he doesn't appreciate the fact that there have been no more screaming matches, he's sure his poor cochleas were not going to stand much more than what happened in the gym that day. And though he's since bought a new headset, he has no doubt that Hinata can very easily out-yell it.

Still, he's hyperaware of it and as a result of said hyperawareness, he notices things. 

Like how Kageyama keeps looking like he wants to pull Hinata aside and say something. And how Hinata reaches out to him sometimes but then freezes at the last second, right before he actually touches Kageyama -something he's never had an issue with before- and then pulls back.

It comes to a head soon enough, they're going for their usual team meat buns on Friday after practice. When Hinata simply stops in his tracks, mouth twisting like he's holding back tears. "I actually have to go watch Natsu. " He says, already swinging a leg over his bike. "You guys go on ahead."

Kei hates that he notices, but as Hinata disappears down the street, he sees Kageyama's fingers twitch. Like he wanted to reach out but was too in control of himself to do it.

Their sempais seem startled. Sawamura even tries to make for Kageyama but Sugawara places a soft hand on his forearm and just like that, he desists. "He's having a bit of a rough go at it." The silver-haired man shrugs. "We all just have to give him time to adjust."

"But wha-" Nishinoya starts crowing before Suga's quiet gaze makes the words die in his throat. "Man you're all so weird," he says and keeps walking by Asahi's side.

Kei doesn't want to ask, he's not going to ask, he's- "You should try to be nicer." Yamaguchi says, cutting off Kei's train of thought as he steers him towards Kageyama. "Clearly he's hurt."

Kageyama's fists ball at his sides. "I'm trying," he says, gritting his teeth. "He said it was fine."

"Uh, want to give us some context?" Kei huffs. "I'm well aware that you think people should be able to read your mind King, but we can't."

Tadashi elbows him in the side. "He means we might be able to help if we knew."

"No, I don't." Kei hisses.

"Tsukki." Tadashi's tone, while sweet, speaks of a warning.

Kageyama looks down, kicking a pebble forward with his right foot. "Suga-san said that soulmates don't have to be dating. Or, you know-" he sighs. "I agree. Hinata said he agreed."

Knowing someone for a long time can be funny. Right now Kei can feel the frustration radiating from Tadashi but his face is all wide open, plastered with a dependable smile. Kei could never pull that off. "Well, you should cut him some slack still," Tadashi says. "He wanted a soulmate, and you two were close."

"But I don't see- I- He's my rival." Kageyama putters. "I don't understand why he thought things would be different or something. It's not my fault."

There's something bout the stance, about the way that Kageyama looks genuinely confused that makes Kei see red. It's completely disproportionate, and luckily he has some self-restraint. "Well, you really wouldn't be a king if you tried to understand how others feel."

"Tsukki." Tadashi elbows him in the side again.

Still, he hasn't said his piece. "He got his hopes up, the least you can do is understand that he doesn't want to see your ugly mug."

For a moment, the air is still and heavy. Kei sees Kageyama's eyes go from normal, to dark, to glassy and then back. It speaks volumes that the other doesn't punch him or at least try. Maybe he'd feel a lot better if Kageyama did. "I know that," he says, looking down again and god, it's pathetic and sad and even he can't stay mad. 

So Kei rolls his eyes and as they walk into the store, and calls over his shoulder. "Then stop moping and let him get over it in peace."

.

.

"Do you think that what I'm doing is stupid?"

Kenma looks up from his game, brown eyes narrowed "Do you mean the soulmate thing?" he asks. "Or not asking Tsukishima why he ran out on you like cinderella?"

Tetsuro's gaze drops down to land on at his bento. "The soulmate thing, the other thing's polite, not stupid." He picks at the rice, wishing he had gotten a coffee from the machine. It's a cool day, already late in autumn. Everywhere is full of leaves, piles, and piles, and piles of them. 

"I mean, if you say so." Kenma rolls his eyes. "I'm not gonna convince you of anything. This is actually the first time you ask me what I think of it," he stops for a second, moving his body a little closer to Tetsuro's. "And you have your reasons for the soulmate thing, so why are you asking? Are you thinking of coming off the pills?"

Tetsuro looks away. "The opposite, actually." he sighs. "My dad said he'll keep buying them for me now that I don't need a prescription, but he said it like, y'know-" Tetsuro pulls his longest, most worried face. "Like he's expecting me to stand up any day and say no, and run off into the sunset or something. But I really don't think I can deal with it now so-"

"But if you thought you could would you?" Kenma asks, infuriatingly calm. This is the main reason why talking to him is good, it's also the main reason why it sucks. He doesn't let Tetsuro hide from things. "I mean, you've heard them once or twice? Maybe they'll be tolerable. You could even just stop for a couple of days to check."

He ponders it for a moment, but the truth is that he's not planning to go off them at all. "I-" he sighs. "I thought about it, but for all I know it's someone I know and that would be cruel." Because he has no intention of pursuing anyone anyways. And then he might just end up in the very spot he's running away from. "I mean a lot of people don't have soulmates or aren't with them. There are dating sites for people like that and all."

Kenma's smart eyes study Tetsuro for a moment. "So what's the problem?" he asks sneaking one of Tetsuro's sausages off his bento box. "If Tsukishima made you want to date, you can date." He gives Tetsuro a small smile. "Or you can talk to him, I have his number."

It's tempting, he really does find Tsukishima interesting, even if the blond doesn't want to talk about what happened, what's going to happen if they don't? He and Bokuto kissed once in first year and neither of them ended up with their feelings all tangled and messed up. Maybe all Tsukishima needs is the reassurance that Tetsuro is not trying to make him his soulmate by proxy or anything. 

Beside him, Kenma smiles a little, just enough to make his amusement noticeable. He's probably enjoying Tetsuro's conflicted face, and since by now he can read him like a book, it's no wonder. "Look, I'll send you the contact, ok?" he says. "Shouyo says he's been particularly mopey these days, maybe he's embarrassed."

Tetsuro huffs. "Tsukki? Nah. He probably doesn't want to deal with it, I think that would be more like him."

But beside him, Kenma is back to playing his game.

**Spring 2013**

They've pulled through, they've pulled through.

The first round is over now, and Tetsuro really should be sleeping. He feels like he should be, he's tired enough for that. But here he is, sitting up at the couch in the lobby of the hotel, staring at his computer screen until his eyes go blurry. 

But his head is reeling, heavy with those frantic thoughts that are so typical of an anxious mind, fast like racehorses, thick like molasses. And they're all about a single person, about a pair of eyes.

Today his eyes met Tsukishima's all of twice, the blond's gaze was indifferent, tranquil and Tetsuro figured if he wasn't running away screaming, it was alright and wanted to go up to say hi but then Bokuto dragged Tsukishima away. And the blond gave Tetsuro one look and let himself be dragged away without so much as a complaint. and they all got called up for the ceremony. Besides, Tetsuro doesn't know what to say, should he just greet him? Should he ask about something, anything? Should he ask why Tsukishima ran away from him after- after _that_?

And tomorrow they're gonna face against each other, there's no question about it, too many hopes, too much history is riding on their teams getting past the second round so tomorrow Tetsuro's gonna fac the blond at the net.

And- and-

Why does it have to feel like he's jumping into a gaping hole? Honestly, he was alright, he barely even thought of the blond anymore. Then this morning their eyes met and Tetsuro felt like he was forgetting something, something important, something transcendent, something life-changing.

He really should be sleeping.

But he's aware no matter how tight he presses the pillows to his eas he won't be able too. it's a side effect of the pills. He has been taking them so long that now he only has bad nights once a month or so. But when they're gonna be particularly bad, he knows. Instead of wasting his time on that, Tetsuro goes to his chat with Kenma and scrolls way back up, it takes him a full ten minutes before he finds the contact, which Kenma apparently obtained by way of Karasuno's number ten.

Tetsuro knows that if he starts overthinking it, he won't do it and the clock in the hallway will chime twelve and two and four and he'll still be sitting here, all pathetic, with dry eyes and an aching back, so he doesn't let anything stop him.

He starts typing

**_FROM: ME-22:43_ **

_Hey Tsukki_

_Srry to bother u_

_I just wanted to ask you a question_

_This is Kuroo, btw_

_From Nekoma_

He's ready to erase it as soon as he hits send on the last message. Tsukishima is probably already asleep anyways, he doubts they're staying anywhere that interesting and it is almost eleven.

Tetsuro slams his phone face down on the couch. Five minutes, he thinks, five minutes or he'll delete the messages, also five minutes to come up with a question, any question that doesn't sound forced. 

Five min- 

His phone buzzes.

**_FROM: TSUKKI-22:46_ **

_How'd you get my number?_

_Sure, whatever._

_You didn't need to specify though._

The amount of defensiveness in the message doesn't come as a surprise. Hell, maybe Tetsuro woke him up.

Tsukishima has a bit of a right to be snappy.

And Tetsuro still doesn't have a question. Fuck, texting Tsukishima was definitely a mistake.

Maybe he can just not answer, he doesn't think. No, that's rude and Tetsuro isn't a coward. He can just go with whatever comes to mind as he's writing, it's not like he can act even more like a crazy person, right?

**_FROM: ME-22:53_ **

_Srry, did I wake you?_

_It's just smth stupid._

_Remember that song? From training camp?_

_D'ya maybe remember what it was?_

Tsukishima sees the messages immediately, but he doesn't reply, not for five minutes, not for ten, not for fifteen. By the time his phone does buzz, Tetsuro has all but given up on the conversation and is browsing through youtube channels.

**_FROM: TSUKKI-23:15_ **

_**attached link**_

_Something from this record._

_You didn't wake me_

_But I am going to sleep now._

**_FROM: ME-23:16_ **

_Thanks._

_Uh, are you still mad?_

_About, y'know_

_The hill thing._

**_FROM: TSUKKI-23:17_ **

_It's a good record._

_I'm not mad._

_Goodnight Kuroo._

**_FROM: ME-23:18_ **

_Sorry anyways._

_Can we talk sometime?_

_Goodnight Tsukki._

Tsukishima doesn't look at the last messages, Tetsuro stares for a while but after a while, his eyes start getting all dry and he shifts to his side to find the small bottle of eye drops that he keeps at the bottom of his bag. That wasn't quite what he expected, but that's what he gets from going in without a plan and asking stupid questions.

Once he's lubricated both of his eyes successfully, he leans down to put the bottle back. Also, at its usual place, he spots the box his phone came in, untouched since the day he bought it a few months ago, as are the earbuds inside it.

For some reason, he can't just close the bag and g on with what he was doing. 

When he wrote the message to Tsukishima, he wasn't planning to listen to whatever song it was. But would it be so bad if he did? The blond didn't give him a specific song, but that was probably because he pulled his headset down a while before putting it over Tetsuro's ears.

Throwing a silent apology his soulmate's way -and hoping they aren't awake, and sleep deeply enough not to hear this- he reaches down for the white box.

.

.

By the time that the final notes of Sorrow play in Kei's head, he has picked up his phone, ready to call Kuroo and put an end to this farce.

Granted, it's only the second song of the album but Kei couldn't tell him it was the next one without giving himself away, so here he is.

At least it's one of his favorite albums.

Somehow that thought doesn't make him feel better.

He gets as far as dialing the number -all while ignoring the notification blinking at him on the edge of the screen- before he chickens out. After all, he is sleeping in the same room with his whole team, and sneaking out might not be his best bet. Kei sighs and pulls the phone under his covers again. Taking deep breaths, and curling into himself, he lets the music wash over him, focuses on it so the tangles in his head can smooth and settle down. 

It would work if he didn't hear Kuroo's voice interspersed with the music once in a while, a low, raspy, whisper-hum that sounds so much more pleasant than the strained tones Kei's used to hearing from his soulmate.

Kei falls asleep just one song short of the album ending.

.

.

Surprisingly, he sleeps well. 

Or not so surprisingly, since Kei has lost count of the times he's fallen asleep with his headset blaring away in his ears.

And besides, what else could he do? He figures that so far, Kuroo's disinterest in music has left him with a skewed view of how it feels to have a soulmate. Wouldn't it be funny if he's the reason Kuroo starts listening to music more often?

Still, it's not like he had time to ponder on that today. Inarizaki is full of troublesome players. The way Hinata and Kageyama interact with the Miya with blond hair is already enough to give him a headache, and that's not counting the middle blocker with the dark hair. When he looked at that one, Kei got a feeling that's very reminiscent of when he first met Kuroo.

Irritating.

And he does catch sight of that high crest of hair, but he tries his best to pretend it's someone else. In his bag, his phone, and the long opened and left unanswered text feels like a ticking time bomb. Like a lump of hot coal in a paper factory.

It was a long chance that they would win, but they did. 

A low chance, but this year Kei seems to be hitting a lot of those, perhaps he should buy a lottery ticket or something.

Kei lays his head back on the edge of the bath. At least the warm water soothes his muscles, his calves have been killing him as of late. Everyone noticed earlier that the women got a nicer hotel, but this one isn't shabby at all.

Hinata is chattering away still, though. "It's so amazing that we're facing them tomorrow." He's saying, agitatedly swinging his legs off the bench where he has decided to hang out in just his t-shirt and underwear.

He will never understand where Hinata gets the energy to spare like that, Kei is doing his best to keep himself from collapsing or something similar. But if he's honest, he just might. Especially because, seeing as they're facing Nekoma tomorrow, he's going to need the rest. "You have only been freaking out about it for the past two hours." Kei groans.

The light bouncing off of Hinata's eyes says it all. "Well, duh, because we've been waiting for like six months! You can't tell me you're not excited to go up against Kuroo-san, you two are always like waahhh."

"If anything he's a pain in the ass." Kei sighs, borrowing Akaashi's words. "That whole game is gonna be a long pain in the ass."

"Oh, can't you be excited for once?" Hinata huffs.

"Who says I'm not?" Kei says, in the most monotone voice possible. The heat that rises to Hinata's cheeks is satisfactory.

The ginger mutters something under his breath and turns away. "Oh, whatever. Kageyama-" he barks. "Care for a talk?" Hinata points at the -currently empty- dressing room. The air immediately turns charged, but the intense feeling of it doesn't seem to touch Hinata, who is beaming as his eyes search out Kageyama. He has been sulking in a corner in just his pants. He has been annoyed since whatever it was that the Inarizaki setter said to them at the end of the game. "C'mon, I have an important thing to say," he says, and though there's still a big smile on his face, he's looking at Kageyama with his intense game eyes.

Ugh, Kei really hopes nothing destabilizing is about to happen. 

Kageyama, frown still in place as he stands up and heads off to the changing room. They're still in plain sight from Kei, and that's when he realizes that their group is alone here. The third years are off in their room, and the second years have snuck away to watch that pretty childhood friend of Tanaka's. Kei's gaze finds Tadashi's, the green-haired man gives him a confused look and a shrug of his shoulders. He's already dressed and heading out.

Kei doesn't know why they bother to go there, they can't sneak off too far, and though he tries not to, he can hear each and every word they say. He would get up and leave if that didn't involve toweling himself off and getting dressed at they watch. Anyway, he'd get the gist of it without even having to hear, Hinata's pretty expressive. First, he starts going on about the game, then some weird tangent that's more sound effects than anything else.

Kageyama looks... constipated, really.

That is until Hinata grins the widest he has yet and places his hands on Kageyama's shoulders. "... and that's when I understood what Suga-san meant that day I found out, we're not meant to be like regular soulmates. We're meant like- Like volleyball soulmates! Like no matter on what side of the court we are."

What? Hinata indeed had a rough going of it after the whole incident, but for the past two months he has been more stable, and his team work with Kageyama's isn't suffering anymore, but this... what the hell? As it is, Kei is very sure he's wearing the same gobsmacked, gaping expression that Kageyama is. The man's mouth moves and he sputters but no identifiable words leave him. Hinata just laughs. "Sorry I gave you a hard time."

Finally, Kageyama finds his voice again. "Tha- how does it make- ugh! Why do you have to say things like that!?" He moves to crowd Hinata closer to the wall. "Doesn't it embarrass you?"

"We're not all emotionally constipated Bakageyama!" Hinata snaps, brow furrowing slightly. "Besides, this is what you wanted, right? Wouldn't hurt you to stop glaring for once."

Kageyama's hand slams on the wall beside Hinata's head. "I really don't get you," he growls, and Kei is afraid his eyes are going to have to bear seeing them kiss. But then Kageyama heaves a long breath and lets loose something that might be a chuckle before turning around. "Whatever, you'll keep playing decently, right?"

Hinata laughs then, high and free. Kei has the distinct feeling that something very ironic just happened, judging from Kageyama's earlier reaction to Inarizaki's setter and resignation on his face right now. "OF COURSE! You're no fun Bakageyama."

"Shut up, Boke!" Kageyama shouts, and Kei makes a disgusted sound. "What are you looking at?" the setter hisses.

"A soap opera, apparently." Kei snickers, leaning his head back again. "Let me rest king, go make out with him if it keeps you two quiet."

Kageyama curses him out, and all is back to normal, on the surface, at least. They leave, and Kei even manages a good fifteen minutes of quiet and rest before his phone buzzes on the bench. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the long line of numbers on top of the message notification.

No one else with a number he hasn't registered on his phone would be texting him at this hour.

That's when he remembers that if anyone's in a disconcerting situation, it's him.

.

.

Tsukishima is a surprising person. At least, he keeps surprising Tetsuro.

Or maybe Tetsuro should adjust his expectations of the blond. He can be a lot more spontaneous than Tetsuro has been giving him credit for.

The blond peeks around the corner of the corridor, still not spotting Tetsuro in the faraway couch that he has chosen to sit in. He seems nervous, playing with his fingers as he steps out into the lobby. He's wearing a thin green sweater and sweatpants. Tetsuro lifts a hand to get his attention and if he wasn't already somewhat used to the other, he would miss the way his shoulders square and his jaw tightens as if he's gritting his teeth. "Yo, Tsukki!" He calls. "Over here!"

Startled, Tsukishima's eyes dart around the lobby, but there's no one here aside from them. It's a bit late already and even the receptionist stepped away for a coffee break a couple of minutes ago. At least that seems to put Tsukishima at ease, as he finally lets the whole deer-in-the-headlights look go, and walks towards Tetsuro, sitting on the other end of the sofa. As far from him as he can. 

Well, maybe he's not that surprising.

Tetsuro tries to grin at him, though his legs are a mess of nervous energy, tapping on the carpeted floor. "Hey, uh, how's it going?"

If even possible, Tsukishima recoils further. Tetsuro is pretty sure that his back is going to end up fused to the armrest at this pace. "You called me down for small talk?" he asks, eyes avoiding Tetsuro's. "One would think a hotshot captain like you would have better things to do, Kuroo-san." 

"Hey now, is that a way to talk to a sempai?" Tetsuro jokes, feeling the corners of his eyes crinkle at the joke. "And yeah, I wanted to catch up, I did tell you I liked to talk to you, didn't I?"

Tsukishima squirms uncomfortably on the couch. "We have a match tomorrow," he says, in a low little voice that doesn't feel like him at all. "A good sempai would say to go to sleep. And yeah, you might've mentioned that."

Tetsuro hums. "Are you implying I have some sort of devious plan, Tsukki?" he drawls, watching with interest how a blush floods Tsukishima's cheeks.

Those pretty lips twist into a sneer, Tsukishima leans forward picking at the edge of the couch. "I never said that, but you seem too keen to discard the idea now." He pushes his glasses up the bridge of that long, straight nose. Tetsuro can't believe just how sharp and condescending he words sound. A tried and true defense mechanism, he figures, though it is not pleasant at all to be in it's receiving end.

"Oh, but you did," Tetsuro smirks, scooting the slightest bit closer. Tsukishima holds his ground though, just as tense pressed up to the armrest. "You implied I was a bad sempai, and here I'd gotten you a drink too." He says, pulling out the strawberry milk he got from the vending machine a while ago from his open bag. "But I guess it's all for naught," He says in his best mock-offended voice, even leaning back dramatically and making to hide the milk in his bag. "I am so hurt that my disciple would think of me that way."

But the blond's hand comes up to wrap around his wrist. His long fingers are cold and the skin is almost as calloused as Tetsuro's own. It takes a breath and then some for him to find his courage to look up at Tsukishima again. When he finally does, the blond is looking at him with an unreadable expression. It is both resigned and exasperated, mixed in with a little confusion. And scratch anything he thought before this, Tsukishima's going to be surprising in any setting, no matter how Tetsuro tries to provoke him. He was expecting something else, he's not that sure what, but definitely not this.

But fuck, he can't look away now, fuck, he wants to come closer.

He wants a kiss like the ones that have been haunting him for the past few months.

It's Tsukishima that breaks both the hold and the silence. He timidly reaches out for the milk box and takes it, body loosening as if he has just lost and internal battle. "No doubt a part of your evil plan," he quips quietly.

Tetsuro feels his stomach twist. "Wow, I'm getting more evil by the second," he answers, breathless. "Tell me, what else does my evil plan entail?"

Finally, finally, Tsukishima sits back without impaling his back on the armrest and Tetsuro takes a proper look at him. Usually, he's all long lines, sharp angles, sharper eyes. But here those edges are softened, Tsukishima looks pensive as he hums and brings the box to his mouth. "I don't know," he mumbles. "Maybe you really do want to tire me out before the game, or let me fall asleep here and make me late."

"Oh, c'mon, Tsukki," Tetsuro laughs, looking down at the foot of stuffing and fabric between them. "I wouldn't be that obvious," he says, grinning. "And we certainly wouldn't be sitting here if I wanted to tire you out."

He didn't mean it like that, -ok, maybe a little- but Tetsuro still feels a little bashful when Tsukishima goes positively cherry red. The flush that had started receding comes back in full force. "Gross." he manages to choke out.

"My, Tsukki, your mind sure is in the gutter." Tetsuro snickers. "I meant volleyball, but if you insist..."

"Hmm." Tsukishima laughs then, "Are you sure you aren't projecting Kuroo-san? I was more than happy to stay up in my room. It's not a good look on you to be calling people out in the middle of the night."

Tetsuro has to fight the urge to just outright laugh in delight at that. Tsukishima doesn't take things lying down, it's fun. "Yeah," he gestures at the lobby around them. "I'm sure this is a terrible place, all hidden, dark, and perfect for any despicable things I'm planning." He speaks a little loud at the end and as if for added effect, the night receptionist peeks out of a little room behind the front desk and shushes them.

"You sound like a cartoon villain," Tsukishima observes, crossing one of his legs over the other.

Tetsuro grins at him, arm going over the back of the armrest, head leaning into it. "Shame I don't have any good villain music, but I bet you could find some for me. That album you sent me was good. I really liked it."

"I know." The blond mumbles, curious eyes searching Tetsuro's face.

"Oh, do you?" Tetsuro teases.

"It's good." Tsukishima bites back dryly, shoulders sagging. "Anyways, was that all you wanted to say?"

Just like that, the nice, slightly more comfortable mood they had been building is gone, leaving in place an uncertain tension. Tetsuro looks down at where Tsukishima is picking at a loose strand on the couch. "I really do like talking with you Tsukki." he sighs. "But you're right, go to bed."

Suddenly it's very cold in the lobby, Tetsuro expects it'll be colder still when Tsukishima leaves. He waits for that, looking down at the faded upholstery of the couch, but all he hears is a sigh, mirroring his own. "I'll stay a while more," Tsukishima says, settling comfortably again. "You got me down here anyways, and Hinata and Kageyama are probably not asleep yet."

By now, Tetsuro knows it's as much of an invitation as he's going to get, so he leans back again, eyes seeking out Tsukishima's profile. "Look, about hat happened at the camp-" he starts but has no idea how to continue and Tsukishima's head has whipped around. feeling like his head has been scooped empty, Tetsuro scrambles for words. "I-It's fine, right? I mean, people- I mean it's nothing weird."

He must look like a mess because Tsukishima can't stop a little smile from escaping him "You're stuttering a lot for something that's not weird." He leans closer to Tetsuro"I think this is making it weird."

And that sobers Tetsuro up a little, his next comment comes out a little too rough, too mean. "Only because you keep running away from me. I'd say that trying to hide behind Shrimpy is very ineffective, but you know that already."

The blond glares at him, flustered. "Oh, shut up. " he crosses his arms over his chest. "If it's nothing weird, then it isn't," he huffs.

Tetsuro rolls his eyes, this isn't quite what he thought would happen, nor is it what he sometimes dreamed about. But it is as good as anything else. "So? We're pals right Tsukki?"

Tsukishima stiffens. "Is that some sort of euphe-"

"No! No-"Tetsuro reaches out to pat the blond's shoulder. "I mean normally like I can send you memes, and you can send me songs, and- If you want, I mean you don't have to, bu-"

There's a sharp intake of breath and Tsukishima closes his eyes for a second. "We can," he says, exhaling, long and hard. "It's fine Kuroo."

Tetsuro grins. "Ok, then" he lifts a fist to Tsukishima, who half-heartedly returns the gesture. "Hey do-"

It's the second or is it the third?- time tonight that Tsukishima leaves him speechless. One second Tetsuro is poised to make a pun of some sort and then the next one Tsukishima is taking off his headset and then, hurriedly slipping it over Tetsuro's head. The way that the blond pats down Tetsuro's hair is almost gentle. At his stunned expression, the blond's face doesn't change at all. "You said I should give you songs to listen to."

"B-but- what about you?" Tetsuro asks, noticing that to put on the headset Tsukishima had to move closer, that their thighs are almost touching. 

The blond shrugs. "I don't want to go upstairs yet," He pins Tetsuro to the sofa with those golden eyes. "I'll be fine, may I?"

All he can do is nod numbly as the song starts playing, and Tsukishima pulls up what looks suspiciously like a tiny Kindle from his pocket.

_The beacon that is calling me_

_The light that never dies_

_Reflections thrown above the sea_

_Casts shadows in the sky_

They end up going to bed when the night receptionist kicks them out, way past midnight. For the life of him, Tetsuro can't figure out Tsukishima Kei.

.

.

They don't put Tsukishima in first thing. Which is usual, it's better to switch out the middle blockers on the backline with the libero.

So Tetsuro gets some time to collect himself.

Or so he believes.

However, by the time the blond has spent more than a minute in the court all he can think is of Kenma talking about a 'latest version' of Hinata. And he wonders if -in volleyball- he isn't dealing with a 'latest version' of Tsukishima as well. He figures blocking one of the top three aces in the country would have taken at least this much change.

He can only feel awe, even as quips pour from his mouth whenever he meets the blond at the net.

Yes, when that perfect, perfect block shuts down his spike -a block that has 'Kuroo Tetsuro' written all over it-, he can't help but feel awe, and pride, and like he wants to high-five the blond and maybe something more.

And there's also... something else.

Something he hadn't thought much about before this, because Tsukishima quips back at Tetsuro, but then he turns around, eyes full of enjoyment, full of trust, and high fives his friend, the pinch server with the green hair.

They're friends, childhood friends, he remembers hearing, and this is definitely inappropriate since he's a lot more affectionate to Kenma, all the time. But the jealousy isn't listening to reason.

He wants Tsukishima to look at him. So he calls out again, once the blond's by the neck.

And is subsequently, absolutely blown away.

.

.

Kei's response to the older man is dulled like this. He's thankful for that, actually. After he just sat there last night, pretending to read while the music Kuroo heard went directly into his brain -and his humming, listening to it in person is different and it left Kei no room for doubt that this man is his soulmate, even if there wasn't room for doubt to begin with-.

Kei is feeling off-balance when he looks at the other.

Like this, with the roar of the crowds and the way both their teams can be quite loud even by themselves, all that happens is that Kei can see him. And he's attracted to him, but that's the least worrying and disconcerting of all the feelings swirling inside his head.

Besides, none of that cancels out the fact that he wants to test himself against the other.

Kei has never said he can't be petty.

They say their hello's in a haze of noise and the smell of new rubber and whatever cologne Kuroo wears. Kei is about to turn away when that familiar voice float over to him.

Kuroo thinks he's so funny, Kei doesn't let him get away with it, he responds in kind. And afterward, every time they meet at the net it's the same thing. Like neither he, nor Kuroo, can stop grabbing for the other's attention.

Finally, after Kei manages to shut him down, right after his small celebration with Yamaguchi, he's met with earnest, transparent hazel eyes. "Hey, I forgot to ask last night, but how's volleyball been for you lately?"

Kei answers as if in automatic, he knows the answer, knows he would usually feel bashful about uttering it so openly. But Kuroo's voice at that moment, it won't let him lie, it's like some honeyed sort of sedative for his usual aloofness. "Thanks to you," he says, meeting Kuroo's hazel gaze, as images start flitting through the back of his head. "Once in a blue moon, it's fun."

And then Kuroo gives him a wide, honest smile, the stunned sort that can't be faked, can't be drawn by force. And Kei realizes being close to him is dangerous. It would be, even if he weren't keeping the secret that he is.

Kuroo doesn't want a soulmate, hell he probably doesn't want Kei at all outside of being his friend and what they did on the Shinzen hill.

But maybe that's fine, maybe Kei can want him the same way and the same way only.

If he even gets the chance to.

.

.

The rest of the game is pure instinct, even Kei has no time to mull over things. Nekoma is exhausting, no matter how much they throw at them they never give out an easy point.

By the time the match ends his calves are cramping and he's pretty sure he might need a new set of lungs.

But they win.

They win.

And on occasions like this, he joins in on the joy, not for anyone else but for himself.

Kuroo shakes Sawamura's hand first or tries to, it quickly becomes a hug. And Kei is standing off to the side, he knows he has to at least acknowledge the other. It would be rude not to, after everything -as much as Kei's not going to admit that out loud-.

He's not going to play against Kuroo again, is he? Somehow that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, he tells himself that it's the loss of the exhilarating feeling of blocking the other's spikes, of meeting that gaze on the other side of the net, and feel like the bottom of his stomach has dropped out for a millisecond.

By the time he realizes he's been caught up in his thoughts, Kuroo is there already, grin wide though his hazel eyes are rimmed with red. "You believe us now, huh?" the man says, clasping Kei's sweaty palm in his and patting him on the shoulder right after.

Kei manages a half-smile. "Bokuto may have been on to something," he responds.

Kuroo mutters something that almost sounds like 'brat', but then they're both getting swept away by their respective teams and Kei can only catch the tail end of the next thing he says. "- be watching, don't you dare lose."

And at that moment Kei feels so light that he chuckles. Like it's up to _him_ whether they win or lose.

.

.

They lose.

They give it their all but they lose.

And it’s not surprising, really, the fact that they even got this far is impressive. Kei _knows_ that he _knows_ it. But it still feels like so much could have been. Even if they did all know that after Hinata got taken out at such a critical moment, their chance of winning was all but busted.

He tries not to look at the third years, he’s not one to cry but currently, he wouldn't put it past his eyes to let a few slip through. 

Kageyama bolts right after the handshake, possibly, probably to find Hinata. And Kei follows because there’s nothing much better to do, and he’s afraid Nishinoya will tackle him while trying to get a hug out of Kei -short, he may be, but Kei doesn't fancy being knocked over-. He keeps his distance, though, meaning to only see that Kageyama finds the ginger, and then find somewhere to retreat for a second and catch his breath.

Kageyama storms past the double doors behind which Kei can see a splotch of orange as they close again. He doesn’t see Kuroo, standing to the left side of them, in his all-red ensemble, leaning cooly on the wall, with his arms crossed over his chest.

But Kei does, Kei sees him.

The cynical part of him wonders why he had to give in that time at training camp. And it doesn’t mean the kissing, the kissing was good but dismissable with some rationalization. It means putting his headset on Kuroo’s head. Kei could be completely oblivious right now, could be a normal teenager with a crush on a perfectly decent-looking person. Instead, he feels like a walking, breathing lie every second he doesn’t tell Kuroo.

Yes, a simple kiss pales in front of the fact that he's bonded to the other. After all, the only known way too dissolve a soulmate bond is, well, death.

“Kuroo-san,” he greets, tugging at the hem of his shorts. His stuff is still all back at the arena, he didn’t want to get dressed without at least giving the sweat a little time to dry off. “Hi.”

Is there a way of telling Kuroo that doesn’t end in disaster? Kei can feel anxiety simmering in the pit of his belly. Best case scenario -and he means _best_ case- the other just won’t care and they can go back to living the way they have. Worst case, Kuroo thinks Kei wants him as a soulmate -which he doesn’t, not really, not if his soulmate would see him as a chore he’s forced to take care of,- and will distance himself because _he_ has made it perfectly clear that some voice inside his head is not going to dictate the rest of his life.

And Kei should do the same.

Besides he might end u like Hinata, regretting having ever found out -he already does, a little- and that would suck.

It probably doesn’t take Kei that long to process everything, But he has a feeling that Kuroo’s face has gotten progressively more worried. “C’mon, that’s an awful long face.” The man says taking two steps towards Kei. “I wasn’t gonna offer since you’re not the type, but I'm a great hugger if you want one.”

He feels like he should step back in kind because if Kuroo takes another step they will be close enough to touch,-close enough to press against each other- but it feels like his feet have been bolted in place. “I’m fine.” He says, yeah, Kei has definitely been pinned to the ground where he stands with bolts and a steel rod. He clears his throat, looking away from Kuroo before he does something stupid. “ What are you doing down here?”

The older man cranes his head to the side, pursing his lips. “The same thing as you. He jerks his thumb towards the double doors. “Kenma came down here so Shrimpy could watch the match in his tablet.” Kuroo shrugs. “I think he and your setter are consoling him.”

Kei's mind flashes back to the way Kageyama dismissed Hinata in the court. “I doubt that.” He closes his eyes and looks for the strength to step past Kuroo. Telling himself someone's eyes shouldn't be able to pin him to one spot of concrete.

“Why?” The man asks, genuinely curious.

“They’re…” Kei shakes his head. “Kageyama doesn’t console people.” He takes a step, and then another past Kuroo, to peek through the little windows at the inner corner of each door. “I hope they’re still alive, or Sugawara is going to be mad at me for not stopping them.”

Kei takes a peek through the clear glass. Nekoma’s setter is quietly sitting on a bench, looking a bit taken aback. A bench which Hinata is standing in, looking down at Kageyama like if he had something to smash over his head, he would. Kageyama is standing in front of him, stance firm and challenging. He’s saying -screaming-something but they’re far enough and the doors are thick, so Kei cant hear.

“Man, they have the energy to fight like that after this day? What are you feeding them?” Kuroo’s voice makes goosebumps rise on Kei’s arms -and legs, and _literally_ everywhere else-. He has come up behind Kei, and, paying no mind to Kei’s personal space, is peering through the window from above his head-he must be on his tiptoes, though- when there’s another window _right beside_ them.

“They fight like that all the time.” Kei grumbles, trying not to turn his head, the warm puff of air that just brushed his cheek has to be some sort of malfunctioning AC unit, it can’t have been Kuroo’s breath. No. “Whoever made those two soulmates wasn’t in their right mind.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath behind Kei. “They’re soulmates?”

“I thought your setter would’ve told you.” Kei answers, Kageyama’s still yelling, at least it hasn’t come to blows just yet. “He’s all Hinata can talk about… Besides volleyball.”

“No, Kenma doesn’t really-“ Kuroo huffs. “Could you bend down a little? I can’t see standing normally and my calves are starting to burn.”

“There’s nothing to see,” Kei grumbles but obeys, bending his legs the slightest bit so Kuroo can look over his shoulder and through the narrow window. This, however, causes his back to brush over Kuroo’s chest, making Kei shiver though there are like three layers of clothes between them. “We shouldn’t interfere anyway.”

Kuroo snorts. “I just plan on grabbing Kenma and running if it comes to blows,” he chuckles, and Kei notices that the other hasn’t stepped back, even a little, they’re still pressed together. He tries to position himself in some way that’s not uncomfortable, he does, but the space is narrow and he’s being caged on all sides.

Finally, Kei gives in and wiggles so he’s facing the other, glaring at the man for all he’s worth.

Only then does Kuroo seem to realize that there’s another, perfectly functional window right beside them. He jumps back. “Sorry, Tsukki, that was uncomfortable-“ he scratches his neck. “Uh- probably, sorry.”

“Nevermind.” Kei huffs, knowing he’s probably blushing.

They go back to watching through the windows, Kuroo’s setter friend seems to be growing more and more alarmed. Kei does wonder why Kuroo doesn’t go in and rescue him like he just said he would, but he's not eager to be left with Hinata and Kageyama when they’re fighting, no less. So he doesn’t mention it.

And then Kuroo starts humming.

Kei wonders if he eve will hear him singing with that voice, that deep rumbling voice might sound good. The humming sounds good, both I Kei’s head and out of it. And there’s a small sense of triumph, of a sort of possessiveness when he recognizes the song.

_They say that the captain stays fast with the ship._

_Through still and storm_

_But this ain’t the Dakota, and the water’s cold._

_Won’t have to fight for long._

It takes a while for Kuroo to notice that Kei’s looking at him. “Sorry,” he says, clearing his throat. “I think you're making me like music a lot more, Tsukki. I need you to send me that playlist from last night.”

And this I absurd, it’s absurd. Why does he have to have any sort of impact on Kuroo? Why does Kuroo have to let him see it? Couldn’t they just go on with their lives the normal way, Kei doesn’t fancy himself as a romantic, so he can’t see the appeal here.

Kuroo’s face twists into a grimace, ad Kei wonders what kind of expression is on his own right now. “I mean, not if you don’t-“

It takes conscious thought to 

step forward, to bring up his hands, to push Kuroo into the wall beside the door, and finally to bring their lips together. It takes thought but Kie doesn’t know in which part of his brain exactly, because most of it is filled with static noise and a fair amount of irritation.

At least Kuroo’s mouth is good for the irritation, especially when he immediately kisses Kei back, one lean arm wrapping around his waist, the other barely coming up to his thigh to trace the contours of his shorts over his right thigh.

Kei’s only other experience with this is, well, that one time at Shinzen, so the kiss is not too perfect. He’s pretty sure that he almost broke both their noes on the way down, and his lip smarts- “Tsukki, wait-“ Kuroo is pulling away and there’s blood on his mouth.

Kei jumps back. “Fuck, sorry,” he pants. “Sorry.”

The older man gives him a look through narrowed eyes. “What the hell do you mean sorry, you’re bleeding.” He says, approaching Kei, but stopping on his tracks when he recoils. “Look, just let me get that-

“What are you talking about, you’re the one bleeding.” Kei finally manages to grit out, hands clenching into fists.

Kuroo rolls his eyes at him. “I am literally looking at the place where your lip is cut.” he wipes at his mouth, revealing that he’s indeed not injured at all. “C’mon Tsukki.”

At this moment, Kei might feel very lucky if he were struck by lightning or given the chance to melt into sludge on the floor. He feels naked and just wants to run but-

The doors burst open. Kageyama chasing after a fuming Hinata, neither of them takes even one look in their direction, and that’s a very good thing, because, in a brief moment of panic Kei has pushed Kuroo up against the wall again and is covering the man’s mouth with one of his hands. 

Kuroo’s friend comes out after, eyes glued to the screen of his tablet and Kei is afraid to even breathe, lest the man looks his way. In the end, he doesn’t though, and Kei heaves a long sigh as he lets go of Kuroo’s mouth. 

The other is on him in a second, thumb carefully tugging at Kei’s hurt lip, damn Kuroo, and his sharp teeth. “It doesn’t look too deep." Kuroo looks up at him. “Damn Tsukki, give me a warning next time.”

Kei feels himself go red. “There won’t be a next time.” He grits out, grabbing Kuroo by the forearm and tugging the hand away from his face. “I really should be getting back.”

Kuroo frowns up at him, but then he just sighs. “Fine, but you have to send me those playlists.” He takes a step back form Kei, eyes going to the ground. “And wash that first?”

Kei lifts his hand to the place where his lip is only starting to throb. “Yeah, I will…” he trails off, half turning always before he looks at Kuroo’s confused face again. “Kuroo-san.”

“Hm?”

“Sorry.”

.

.

Maybe it’s a bit more than a crush.

Or a small one, at least.

“Kuro, you have something on your chin,” Kenma says, walking past him and into the train station. Tetsuro rubs furiously at his own skin, grateful that Kenma doesn’t seem to have- “You should be careful next time, it kind looked like you punched him, instead of- “

“Who says that's not what happened?” Tetsuro snaps nervously, already knowing it's futile but for his pride.

Kenma turns to look at him through narrowed eyes. “Like you would ever punch him.” He snorts. “Besides, yo two were looking too ruffled for that.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Tetsuro asks. Lips pressing together tightly.

Kenma shrugs. “I don’t particularly like him, besides, it would have been awkward.”

At least that part of his world hasn’t been turned on his head. Tetsuro huffs as his phone buzzes in his pocket.

**_FROM: TSUKKI -18:34_ **

_**attached link**_

_That’s my account_

**_FROM: ME -18:35_ **

_Thnx :D_

_What should I listen to first?_

But, for the longest time, Tsukishima doesn’t answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I didn't mention it int he last chapter lol, but this story is not going t be very long and there will be a hell of a timeskip next chapter. (like it'll be around 40-50k because, as you can see, I'm bad at being concise).  
> That said I loved writing the kissing scene int his chapter.
> 
> Thanks for all your wonderful comments, they make my day.  
> Love, Kyrye


	3. Coming of age (has come and gone)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Real life isn't convenient for anyone... and ethical considerations can be the death of many an opportunity. Tetsuro realizes this in stages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii! So here's the new chapter, yay!  
> This was hell to edit lol, I'd had it written for a couple of days, but the editing took a lot of time and I was ready to just die after a while.  
> It's a chapter where a whole lot of time passes, though, so beware.  
> I hope y'all like it.

**Summer 2013**

**_FROM: KUROO TETSURO -20:41_ **

_Tsukki, I need happy music_

_Pls_

_Or I might die_

_Or fall asleep and not finish this_

_Which is worse_

**_FROM: ME -21:00_ **

_***attached link***_

_This album_

_Skip track five though._

_And stop doing things so last minute_

_._

_._

As it turns out, it _is_ Kei that gets Kuroo to start listening to music.

It's still not that common an occurrence -at least when Kei uses himself as the baseline-. And thankfully, for the most part, it's confined to afternoons and nights. The one-time Kuroo started singing in the middle of the afternoon, soft, and deep, and just slightly off-key he tripped in practice and nearly broke his glasses.

Which would have been bad, because he always has been afraid of just that happening and him ending up with a shard of glass in his eye.

The worst is that it's almost always Kei's music, and sometimes Kei forgets that it's just because Kuroo has the link to his music app profile, and therefore all his playlists. 

Which is not something he ever thought he would feel hurt about, after all, one of the things that bothered him before, was the apparent lack of taste of this person in his head. But it feels... lonely at times.

But... life goes on, he figures and if the start of his second year is any indication, he is only going to get busier. "Tsukki..." Yamaguchi groans, laying his head down on the smooth surface of the low table right beside their calculus homework. "This is too long."

It's already way past ten at night, he can hear his dad's muffled snores and everything. And neither he nor Yamaguchi are close to being done. "I wonder how she plans to grade this," Kei says, blurry eyes staring at that tiny, black, number fifty at the bottom of his worksheet. "I can't believe she gave us fifty exercises for just one afternoon."

"I don't know," Kei groans, he's still at problem number thirty-two, and by this point, his brain is starting to refuse to understand what it's reading. "She had a class with the idiot duo right before us, I bet they put her in a bad mood."

Tadashi snorts. "It was pretty noisy when we got there." He smiles wryly. "Do you think Kageyama's ever going to realize he's jealous?"

"You mean bitter?" Kei leans forward on his elbows. "It's sort of the king's fault anyway. It's actually a bit adm-" he bites his tongue, pettiness keeping him from saying anything more.

The green-haired man laughs. "You just almost complimented Hinata, didn't you?" He giggles. "I think Hinata's doing the right thing too, Kageyama was a jerkface about it all."

Kei rolls his eyes. "When is the king not a jerkfa-"

_And a long-forgotten fairytale_

_Is in your eyes again_

_And I'm caught inside a dream world_

_Where the colors are too intense_

Kuroo's voice is mellow, deep, it's the first time hears a song from him that isn't the usual and that doesn't come from one of Kei's playlists. It makes him smile a little and proves he hasn't gotten used to it at all. Because it stops him in his tracks so much that Tadashi peeks into his line of sight, brow furrowed in concern. "Tsukki, are you ok? Is it your soulmate?"

Kei takes in a deep breath. "No, no, I got distracted, is all." Kei knows he doesn't sound convincing, not that it would matter if he did, because Tadashi has that stubborn look on his face that tells Kei that this moment has been engineered, waited for, set up, and thought of for a while. "Shut up, it's really nothing."

"Tsukki, it's really obvious." Tadashi's eyes narrow. "It has been obvious since it happened." The green-haired man points out. "And I've been waiting because that's personal and- and I know you don't talk about it but- it's been like what? Almost a year?"

There's no other way to say it, Kei is struck speechless. He has fumbled, more than once, but he never thought he was that easy to see through. He grits his teeth, problem number thirty-two burning itself into his retinae. "I'm surprised you didn't say anything sooner."

The air in the room has gone cold and stale -even though it's the height of summer- Tadashi looks up guiltily. "I wasn't sure until Nationals, I'm still not that sure who it is. I mean, I'm between a few people-" he presses his lips together tightly. "I would've liked it if you told me though, we're friends. You know I would have told you!"

What's worst is that Tadashi is kind of right, but Kei had his reasons too. He looks up, gaze meeting his best friend's. "I didn't tell you because there was nothing to tell." He sighs, noticing that his mechanical pencil has drawn a line through the whole statement that makes up problem thirty-two. "He's like my parents." Kei says simply, "Not interested, that's it."

"Oh." Tadashi looks down. "Sorry, I didn't-" he purses his lips. "Who- who is it? Might as well tell me."

"Kuroo," Kei says, almost forcing out the name.

"Really?" Tadashi frowns. "He doesn't seem like the type-"

The only answer that Kei can give him is looking away at the tree branches right outside the window. "It's fine, I don't care that much. He's just distracting sometimes."

At least Tadashi knows him well, he's aware of his parents, he knows Kei was definitely not a knotted mess of wanting a soulmate before this. His best friend's eyes are not pitying, and that's for the best. "You never liked the idea. But, are you ok Tsukki? I- it seems like he handled that way better than Kageyama, but-" And that's when Kei grimaces. "He doesn't know, does he?"

"I found out he didn't want a soulmate before-" he sighs, Kuroo is still humming somewhere in the back of his head, but right now it's more of a dull buzzing. "I realized on the last day, anyways. It would have been pathetic to tell him after."

Tadashi remains quiet for a second, leaning back on his hands while Kei busies himself reading problem thirty-two again. "I kinda wanna go punch him," He says after a while. "Even though Kuroo-san could break me in half, probably, and he's in Tokyo, so I can't. I'm gonna hug you instead."

Kei knows it's unavoidable, and besides this is Tadashi. So Kei just huffs and smiles a little at the page. The answer is eighteen. "Why?" He asks when Tadashi walks around the table and hugs him.

"It's a lost chance, is all," Tadashi says. "And it's not your fault."

.

.

**Winter 2013**

College is kicking everyone’s ass.

Except for Bokuto, of course. 

And Yaku.

And the people whose asses aren’t being whooped by college are having their asses whooped by work. So Tetsuro tries not to take it too personally.

Except on moments like this, moments like this have him wondering why he didn’t take one of the offers he got to play volleyball and just screw everything else. He could’ve had a part-time job while on V2 and worked damn hard to get to V1. He knows he could’ve made it.

Even with his bum knee, and if he ended up having to have a replacement at thirty, then who the hell cared? He’d have lived fully and damn the consequences.

Only, he’s a reasonable person, who greatly dislikes needles, and saw that maybe a career in Economics was a good place to be too -besides he knows how long replacements last, and how long replacement revisions last and he’s not a fan of that particular timeframe- if it couldn't be volleyball.

And so, he’s reasonably staring down at the paper that has eaten away most of his will to live for the past month, wondering if he even has the strength to get the bibliography straight in the two days he has left. But his eyes keep drifting to his phone.

Because half of what has kept him where he is through this whole month resides in that phone to a degree.

Ok, now he’s being dramatic, Tsukishima doesn't live on his phone. He reaches out for the phone and leans over to stuff it under his pillow, this is not the time to be thinking of some ill-advised crush on someone who’s too confused to be interested. But of course, that’s when the phone vibrates, Tetsuro can hear it even under the pillow, _especially_ under the pillow, and he dives for it like some first-year girl. 

**_FROM: TSUKKI- 23:41_ **

_It was fine, I’m done with the book now._

_The word limit for the report is low_

_I’ll be fine._

_Did you finish that bibliography?_

He stares at the message for a while. Tsukishima should really sleep, Tetsuro should let him, no matter how much Tsukishima’s attention is a balm right now.

**_FROM: ME- 23:45_ **

_Shouldn’t be too hard, you’re good at that._

_Just mention the foreshadowing._

_They like that_

_No, it feels like the numbers are dancing in front of my eyes._

_Goddamned Vancouver_

_Are you going to sleep now?_

**_FROM: TSUKKI-23:47_ **

_I know, it’s just too obvious_

_Low-hanging fruit_

_But that’ll be at least 1k words so._

_That’s why I said to organize them from the start_

_No_

_Not for a bit._

**_FROM: ME- 23:50_ **

_Hey, that’s the purpose of it._

_How do you know more about these things than me?_

_You’re a second year, ugh_

_Is something wrong? Is he being noisy again?_

**_FROM: TSUKKI -23:51_ **

_It’s still too easy_

_My dad did a post-grad a few years back._

_He'd complain a lot about it, I liked to hear._

_Not yet, but I’m sure he’ll start any minute._

_I updated the playlists._

Tetsuro blinks at the words for a second. It is true that he has been perusing Tsukishima’s playlists as of late. And Tsukishima knows because the pesky little application sends him alerts directly to his e-mail account, but he rarely mentions that it’s like he's content letting Tetsuro get into his head through the music, but finds it hard to comment on it or to talk about it in general.

And Tetsuro has tried to get him to, he just makes vague little comments and leaves it at that.

He’s never outright said he’s added new music.

Curious, Tetsuro reaches over to the bed for his -now well-worn- earbuds and connects them to the phone.

Tsukishima’s playlists are as much of a confusing, interesting package as the man himself. He has them labeled Alphabetically, without any indication of what the content is, except for the album art of every first song as the playlist thumbnail. Over time, Tetsuro has learned that A is instrumental music, probably used for studying. B is angry, all loud rock with screams and the like. C is more mellow, melancholic tracks. D is boppy tunes, mostly K-pop and Tsukishima didn’t talk to him for two days after the first time Tetsuro mentioned it.

E is full of up-tempo songs that the blond has admitted openly that he listens to on the odd times that he goes out running.

F is the most recent, and it’s erratic, some songs in it are also in the others, some are completely different from what the blond usually listens to. Most of them have something to do with love. 

And Tetsuro is so curious about that last one, but it was created around the time that Tsukishima admitted that his soulmate had been noisier as of late and Tetsuro feels like asking about it would be too far.

B, D, and E have just been updated. So has F.

He can’t help it.

**_FROM: ME-23:57_ **

_You’ve always been a Lil nerd huh?_

_But I’ll listen next time, it’s so gonna save my ass._

_I’ll take a look_

_I hope he lets you sleep_

The playlist is organized so the latest songs that have been added show up first. He only needs to click on the first icon. Tetsuro doesn’t even look at the title. It starts, strangely upbeat, and Tetsuro takes a deep breath.

_Isolations, dotted lines_

_Seas of concrete, wild eyes_

_Streaking colors, blurred to one_

_Always moving, blinding sun_

It… somehow helps, if anything the song wakes him up a little, gets him back on rhythm. He’s too tired right now to analyze the lyrics. And besides, he has promised himself he wouldn’t. Tsukishima hasn’t made this playlist private, that doesn't mean Tetsuro should be trying to pick the lyrics apart.

**_FROM: TSUKKI- 23:59_ **

_Like you didn’t tell me you used to do algebra for fun_

_If anyone’s a nerd…_

_I’m just polite_

_Sure, whtv_

_I can sleep with music well enough._

**_FROM: ME -00:04_ **

_You’re never going to let that go, are you?_

_My granny bribed me with candy, ok?_

_I got conditioned._

_Not whtv, I would die without your music right now_

_You should, you know?_

_Sleep_

_It’s past midnight._

So instead, right after he texts Tsukishima, he leans forward and goes to work on getting the bibliography set up. He has that feeling that says if he doesn't finish it today, he never will.

The playlist goes on, all the songs are familiar to him now, some he even hums under his breath as he furiously tries to get the bibliography to make some sense.

Sometimes, Tetsuro thinks of his soulmate, how unfair this is to them.

But he can’t help it.

He can’t help wanting any and every crumb Tsukishima is willing to give.

.

.

**_FROM: TSUKKI -16:29_ **

_Just waiting for practice to start_

_The first years are slow._

_And there’s one that doesn’t know how to put up the net._

_He just tripped over it_

_Hbu?_

**_FROM: ME -16:33_ **

_Tsukki! Go be a good sempai!_

_When did I make you put up the net!_

_Nothing._

_Gonna go get coffee_

_I just submitted for that one fancy internship._

_The one you said looked nice_

_Don’t think I’ll get it, but…_

**_FROM: TSUKKI -16:36_ **

_Hey, it’s Yamaguchi’s rule._

_He’s the captain._

_Besides, it’s funny to watch._

_Oh._

_The one in Korea?_

**_FROM: ME -16:39_ **

_This is exactly why you didn’t want to be captain, huh?_

_I taught you better >:(_

_Tsukiii_

_Yeah, the one in Korea._

_But that one genius kid that’s one year under me is applying too_

**_FROM: TSUKKI -16:42_ **

_Exactly._

_I’m the mean uncle._

_You taught me to block._

_Well, who knows?_

_I’ve seen your resume._

_It’s longer than Gone with the Wind._

_You might get it._

_It’s a great opportunity_

**_FROM: ME -16:45_ **

_The one that glares at everyone and never helps._

_Ah, you wound me Tsukki._

_But at least you complimented my resume_

_I’d like to get it._

_But I don’t think I should get my hopes up._

_It’s a year anyways, it would be hard._

_._

_._

**Summer 2014**

Nobody expects the students who’ve already graduated to ever visit the training camp. No one ever had, so far. Or at least that’s what Kei got told last year by Akaashi, then captain of his own team.

Of course, then Bokuto showed up because Akaashi’s that kind of person, the kind that other’s endeavor to surprise by showing up out of the blue using their status as Pro athletes. It’s not like the coaches could say no to someone with real-life experience, even if it had only been a few months.

Kei doesn’t know, by the time the last day of the camp rolls around what he was expecting.

Kuroo is in the middle of exams and trying to get this fancy internship or something, and the only people in the teams that he still kind of knows are Lev, Inuoka, and Kei.

And Kuroo and him are, what? Friends? At worst he’s just the person Kuroo mooches music off of.

To Kuroo, at least, and Kei has long since chosen to ignore any annoying voices in his head.

It has been a long road of getting used to it, but he can almost say that he has satisfactorily gotten used to the knowledge of the fact that it _is_ Kuroo in his head and it’s never going to be Kuroo anywhere else. That’s probably why when Kuroo sounds all too clear while Kei is having dinner, he doesn’t pay it half a mind. He’s listening to Kei’s happy playlist and it’s fine, he knows the other’s not coming.

It’s fine.

Until his first years drag him into the third gym of Shinzen High and Kuroo is standing there, his back to him, talking to Lev like he never went off to college, like Kei is fifteen and blushing every time Kuroo takes a look at him that’s too long or mildly interested.

He manages to avoid the blushing, this time, but he still feels heat sweeping out of his belly and all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. A thought crosses his head that Kuroo’s eyes are still that stunning hazel, another follows that _of course_ , they are, why, it’s basic biology and Kei is being stupid.

And apparently, his endless self reassuring is only good for when those eyes aren’t looking at him, and that mouth isn’t calling his name. Hell, he’s so stunned that he lets himself be pulled into this awkward half-hug, and the whole thing makes Kei wonder if this is how one feels when drunk. “Kuroo, what are you doing here?”

The laugh that rumbles in Kuroo’s chest as Kei is let go from his hold is as deep as he remembers. “Isn’t that a little disrespectful? I was still your upperclassman, you know?”

Kei feels his lip twitch. “I’m not calling someone that texts me at least once a week for a pick-me-up song my sempai.” 

Kuroo rolls his eyes, and those tanned arms got to sit on his hips, making him look even wider than he is. He may have left volleyball for the most part, but he definitely hasn’t stopped working out. “I did that _once_ ,” He says. “You have a wicked memory for things like that, though, if we're playing hardball... I remember a certain incident when they made you read-“

“You mention that Kuroo Tetsuro-“ Kei threatens, he doesn’t even want to remember the title of that boring monstrosity, much less that he ended up watching some kids cartoon of Kuroo’s choice after the meltdown that caused. “And-“

“Yeah, yeah, can you two stop flirting?” Hinata says, casually strolling past Kei with a couple of first years in tow. “We get it, you know each other weirdly well. You can hog Kuroo-san after practice Tsukishima.”

Kei freezes, mumbles a couple of curses under his breath and turns on his heel to fill up his water bottle. Damn it, he _is_ fifteen again. And of course, Lev and Kuroo follow him to the faucet. “You said you were coming yesterday dude, what happened?” Lev is saying, arm slung over Kuroo’s shoulders. It’s annoying, and Kei can only think to himself that it’s because Lev has five centimetres on him now and loves to brag about it.

Really, _nothing_ else.

Kuroo hesitates to answer for a second. “Date ran late,” he mumbles, so low and fast that if Kei wasn’t trained for it from three years of deciphering Kageyama’s mumbled curses to respond in kind, he wouldn't have caught it.

He just fills his water bottle and goes off to where Hinata and the first years are practicing, for some reason he’s feeling that need to shut down some spikers. And Hinata's only going to oblige.

At Kuroo’s suggestion, they end the practice playing a three on three, and now that Kuroo has picked up his pace, he’s almost as good as Kei remembers him. Maybe his head doesn’t make him out to have been cooler when he was a first-year than he was.

By the time they finish, he notices that Kageyama and Yamaguchi have come out of -seemingly- nowhere, and are standing beside the doors of the gym, leaning back on the wall. Kageyama with that particularly stupid expression he has been getting when he looks at Hinata as of late. 

The ginger, as always, doesn’t seem to have noticed, he’s running a towel over his forehead and grinning widely at Lev. Kageyama’s constipated expression only gets sourer and for a second, Kei gets him.

It’s not sour, it’s _possessive_. 

How the gods must be laughing at Kageyama right now -if Kei is not just hallucinating from electrolyte depletion- three years and his and Hinata’s places have switched around entirely. Kei doesn’t know if he should feel annoyed or amused that he has had front row seats for the entire melodrama. And he still will have them for what's to come.

And he still will, because Hinata- “Shouyo.”

Speak of the devil.

The figure that comes up behind Kageyama and Yamaguchi is short, he’s wearing a long shirt with some logo, and loose shorts. Kei isn’t much of a fan of videogames, he’s only watched one of Kenma’s videos -per Kuroo’s request, only to see if the man’s hair was even more of a mess than usual on it- but it seems he’s doing very well with that.

Kei has always known Kenma doesn’t like him, and it’s further confirmed with the narrowed gaze the man gives him before his gaze quickly turns to Hinata and fills with light once again. “Kenma!” 

Hinata seems to teleport, in a second he’s crossed half of the gym and he’s almost knocking the former setter off his feet, nose and lips firmly pressed to the man’s cheek. “Yes, it’s me.” The man says with a half-smile. “Shouyo, you’re sweaty.”

“Uh, oh, right!” Hinata lets him go, still grinning. “I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

Kenma shoots an unreadable look in Kuroo’s direction. “Kuro was coming down here anyway.” Then his eyes shift to Kageyama, looking him up and down like some sort of villain in a chick flick. “Shall we go?” He says, with a smugness that Kei has only ever seen in the other man during games.

Hinata nods enthusiastically, grabs the man’s hand, and walks out of the gym.

Kageyama turns on his heel too. 

“I’m hitting the showers.” He says gruffly, before disappearing into the darkness, walking too fast for anyone to have tried to follow him. 

Beside him, Kei hears Kuroo whistle. “He really doesn’t have a poker face, does he?” he points out, as he stretches his back. 

Kei rolls his eyes at the man, following him to the corner where everyone left their stuff. “Hinata doesn’t notice anyway, never has.” He shrugs. “Besides, he made his bed. And they've been dating for like six months, by now, he should be used to it.”

The older man takes a long drink from his sports bottle and gives Kei an unimpressed look. “You should cut the guy some slack.” He smirks. “Would you just look on if you were in his shoes? “

Of course, Kuroo doesn’t mean for it to hurt, as far as he knows, Kei hasn’t met his soulmate yet and is in no hurry to. But knowing that isn’t of any comfort. “Teaches him to watch his mouth.” Kei bites back. “Besides, much as I hate to admit it, Hinata did well.”

“Well-“ Kuroo says, starting to walk alongside Kei for the exit of the room, they’re the last in their group, besides the first years who are staying back to clean up. This, Kei doesn’t mind about being an upperclassman at all. “-Shrimpy has never been the kind to let anyone tell him how to live his life, figures he would be the same when it comes to this.”

“I know, they’re grossly happy,” Kei grumbles as they cross the threshold and step out into the warm night, the cicadas sing around them. Late summer air always smells sweet but today, it feels like it does more than usual. “You’re not worried about it?”

Kuroo cranes his head to the side. 

Eyes studying Kei for a minute. “Honestly? No.” he says, with that raspy voice that Kei didn’t know he missed -they skype like, once a month, and it ends with one of them falling asleep most of the time- “Kenma knows what he’s doing. I’m more afraid of that idea Shrimpy has of traveling all the way to South America.”

“Really?” Kei asks. “He does plan to come back. Even put a time limit for himself.”

“Yeah but it’s two years.” Kuroo shrugs. “That’s a lot more concerning. Shrimpy is not the kind to use people-” He explains and Kei understands that he must have a stunned look on his face. “That’s obvious, so I don’t think he’s going to go running to your setter, besides, as you said, they’re disgustingly in love. That’s not going to change because of some voices in his head.”

A second passes, and Kei can’t help it, he laughs. When he’s done, Kuroo is looking at him with eyes that are equal parts concern and something else, something bright that he can’t name. “Sorry,” Kei says, panting a little. His ears burn. “I just forget sometimes that you’re not fond of soulmate stuff.” It’s half a lie, Kei never _forgets_ , but he and Kuroo don’t talk about it too much, and everyone else other than Hinata is obsessed halfway to death with soulmates. “It’s the contrast, and I’m tired.”

Kuroo pouts, but it’s playful. “Oyaa. You’re one to talk, Mr. I’m-not-gonna-do-anything-about-it.” 

“You must be rubbing off on me.” Kei chuckles, eyes searching Kuroo’s face. 

He gets these intrusive, completely out of place thoughts sometimes. They’re mostly what ifs, what if Kuroo forgot to take his pills one day? What if he just picked up on one of the many times Kei has slipped while talking to him? What if by some coincidence or device, he found out? 

So far, Kei has been protected by the other’s refusal to hear his soulmate, and he can do nothing but wonder what would happen. Other than Kuroo being mad because that’s a given. Kuroo is a good person and he would be mad, both at and for Kei.

And he would probably feel some sort of obligation to him or something, that’s ultimately what always snaps Kei from those thoughts. He hates to be pitied and he would hate the hassle. He is sure that he would hate it even more if it was Kuroo pitying him, because, well _because_ -he can’t even think of the words most of the time, but they’re always hanging like a banner in the back of his mind-. 

No good reason to tell the older man.

“Tsukiii,” Kuroo drawls. “You were all sour about it before I came along, don’t you deny that.”

And no, not really, he used to be indifferent, then both things coincided and he kind of had to adapt, but Kuroo has no way of knowing that and Kei’s not telling him. “I guess,” he shrugs. “I still don't plan on doing anything about it.”

Kuroo is silent for a second, and they’re almost to the stairs. “So you would date someone else? Or someone like Kenma, who doesn’t have a soulmate?”

The question is loaded, and it makes Kei turn to look at him fully. “Yes-“ he clears his throat, looking away, now he’s blushing. He chances a look up, Kuroo’s eyes are wide, his stance stiff. “Why do you look so surprised? Isn’t it like your life motto that things between soulmates don’t always go well?”

“Well yeah, but-“ Kuroo looks down at his hands. “I don’t like to think that I kinda poisoned you with-“

Kei glares at him and rolls his eyes, his right hand rising to flick Kuroo on the temple. He does it out of pure annoyance, self-deprecating Kuroo is his least favorite Kuroo. “Don’t worry, your tragic backstory has nothing to do with this. I don’t even know it.” Kei shrugs. “It’s more my parents. If some people didn’t think like that I wouldn’t exist, remember?”

Kuroo hums. “You never told me that.” He says quietly. “Why _have_ you never asked?” He huffs, eyes off Kei completely. “About my tragic backstory, I mean. Everyone asks at some point.”

Kei wants to say that he stupid, marginally romantic part of him doesn’t need any fuel for stupid thoughts, but again, he can't. “I thought it was obvious.” He shrugs. “And it was none of my business, I figured if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me.”

Only the cicadas can be heard for a second, then Kuroo’s eyes meet his. “I guess it makes sense when you take into account the timeline and the fact that you have an older brother. Tsukki, I-” He takes a deep, decisive breath, then his brow furrows in concentration, and he reaches forward to grab Kei’s wrist. “C’mon, you've unblocked my tragic backstory.”

A little stunned, Kei doesn’t move when Kuroo tries to drag him towards the hill. “What?”

The older man grins at him, just a little too wide. “I mean if you want to know.”

He couldn't refuse Kuroo if he tried, so Kei just gets them both milk from the vending machine and lets himself be led over to the fresh grass. 

.

.

This was a lot easier in his mind.

No actually, it wasn’t, Tetsuro didn’t even take a moment to think about it, he just plunged in. Now he’s afraid he’s going to squeeze the milk box too hard and spill chocolate milk all over himself and he’s wearing white shorts, so that would be _bad_.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Comes Tsukishima’s dry voice from where the blond is sitting to his left. “Doesn’t seem like you want to.”

“No, no, I do.” Tetsuro sighs. He’s not even sure why he's here, crashing a training camp. Much less why he seems to have made the split-second decision to tell Tsukishima something only a handful of other people know. He’s supposed to be moving on, dating, there’s a bunch of people out there without soulmates -two percent of the world’s population, actually- or who don’t like theirs or whose soulmate isn’t alive anymore. He told himself he would forget about Tsukishima. “I’m just having a bit of a hard time putting it into words.” He explains.

Tsukishima hums, and Tetsuro desperately searches for his bravado from five minutes ago.

He’s really not supposed to be doing this. For all he tries to hide it, and act all mature ad uncaring, Tsukishima isn’t as jaded as him, and so he really shouldn’t be messing with the blond.

The blond whose warm hand he can feel right beside his. Tetsuro takes a deep breath, and then that hand is pressed to his and the words get lost in his throat. No Tsukishima isn’t holding his hand, but it feels- It feels like he’s trying to comfort him. “Both my parents take pills, like you.” He says then, and it’s certain then that he's trying to make Tetsuro less nervous, albeit, in a roundabout way, he still appreciates the gesture. He should feel shitty about it, but somehow it just feels sweet.

Fuck, he sucks at this moving on from his crush on Tsukishima business.

-not that he didn’t know that already, his phone is a constant reminder-

“At first they didn’t, but my dad met his once.” Tsukishima continues, the breeze making the longer curls on the side of his face sway a little. “He says he just explained himself and started taking the pills after. He didn’t want to worry my mom.” Now Tsukishima is looking at him with those eyes that look like the inside of a honeycomb and Tetsuro can’t help but look back. “They’ve always been honest about it, I guess that’ why I don’t think it’s weird. It would have been pretty shitty if either of them had been ready to throw away a marriage and a one-year-old for some voices in their heads.”

Surprisingly, it works. Tetsuro feels the tension leave his body. Sometimes, when he gets too caught up in his feelings, in the misplaced guilt, he forgets why he likes Tsukishima. 

He’s willing to look at things from many points of view, and he can be very understanding when he wants to be. “I was a Wave baby.” Tetsuro starts, then waits for a second, there’s no small gasp or any sign of surprise. 

It’s not like some simple math can’t take one to the conclusion that Tetsuro was born a little more than a year after the news finally broke that the whole thing with people hearing voices in their heads wasn’t mass hysteria or aliens, but something _natural,_ and _wonderful._ Of course, people went off to breed like rabbits afterward, no better aphrodisiac than an idealistic, nonsensical notion like that. “I see,” Tsukishima says, at last, his hand doesn’t move from where it is.

“They were both seventeen, and thought somehow the soulmate thing was enough to, y’know, solve real-life stuff.” Tetsuro continues gaze fixed on the grass under them. “Not ideal, anyway, it’s a wonder they even lasted the seven years they did.” He looks down at where their hands are pressed together, almost holding each other, almost. “I don’t think I ever slept a full night until me and my dad moved in with my grandparents.”

Tsukishima’s attentive eyes are still on him. “You’ve been taking the pills since you were seven?” he asks, eyebrows rising.

Tetsuro huffs. “No.” he chuckles. “No, you know how they are about letting minors take them. My dad had to track down this therapist when I was fifteen when I started hearing stuff.” He grimaces. “It made me pretty anxious, like, to the point I couldn't function. But even then no one wanted to let me take them.”

“The side effects are pretty serious.” Tsukishima points out. “Though clearly, your hair isn’t falling out.” He says, looking up at Tetsuro’s messy hair.

Tetsuro hums, his free hand toying with the grass between his spread legs. “ _That_ would be a shame. Still, the insomnia is pretty annoying, and I have to get blood-work every few months too.”

Subtle isn’t one of Tsukishima’s leading qualities, the way he stiffens is evident. “What happens if it comes out altered?” he asks and then the warmth of his hand pressed to Tetsuro’s is gone.

He turns to search the blond’s face, brow furrowed. “I’d have to stop taking them.” He says, and Tsukishima seems to recoil slightly. “And learn to deal with it, I guess.” Tetsuro huffs. “I bet they’re pretty pissed at me.”

The blond draws his knees in, lifting his milk box up to his lips and seeming to hurry to drain it. “Wouldn’t that suck?” he asks after a moment. “It’s hard to get used to.” His lips press together until they turn white. “And you don’t know this person, they might be insufferable.”

“It would suck,” Tetsuro admits, he has thought of it many times. Aside from the fact that his chest used to go tight and he could barely breathe when he first started hearing the voice, he has been living in silence for six years now, what if his soulmate is like a professional singer or something? He’d be checking into the psych ward within a day. “But it barely happens. I’ve read the studies. I’d only have to stop taking them if my liver started to take damage, and that only happens in like, three percent of the people who have been taking them for a while.”

“Three… percent?” Tsukishima asks, gaze suddenly far away.

“Yeah,” Tetsuro answers, a bit confused. Tsukishima has been thinking of taking the pills as soon as he can get them more easily -it's a lot easier to get a prescription when you're over eighteen, at least- but he probably hasn’t done this kind of research.

After all, he isn’t as displeased with the idea as Tetsuro is, it’s normal that he isn’t as serious about the whole thing. Hell, he has even said that his soulmate has been getting good in terms of music choices, that can only mean they’re similar to Tsukishima’s.

In time, that ambivalence may even become gladness.

He shivers, somehow, that’s a scary thought.

“I think I should get going.” Tsukishima mumbles, voice low and urgent. “They’re going to be wondering where I am.”

Tetsuro takes a look at his unfocused gaze and nods, standing up and offering the blond a hand. “If Kenma’s up there can you send him down? He doesn’t check his phone when he’s with Shrimpy.” 

Tsukishima takes his hand, those long, elegant fingers wrapping around Tetsuro’s wrist. ”Yeah, thanks." he says, then he pulls himself up. Suddenly the two inches of height between them seem a lot more, and Tetsuro finds himself pinned by that golden gaze like some sort of unfortunate insect.

They probably stand there looking at each other like two fools for a few minutes, but it feels like hours, like seconds. Tetsuro has probably never wanted anything more than to kiss the blond, but he knows he shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t start something when he-

When he is leaving.

.

.

**_FROM: KUROO TETSURO -00:41_ **

_Hey, I kinda forgot to tell you_

_You were right_

_I, uh_

_Got the Internship :D_

_Thanks for telling me to submit it anyways._

**_FROM: ME -00:48_ **

_Don’t worry._

_Congrats Kuroo._

_You leave next year, then?_

**_FROM: KUROO TETSURO -00:52_ **

_Thanks._

_Yeah, starting spring._

_I just realized I have to do a ton of paperwork now_

_Like there’s a list._

_***attached file***_

_A long one_

_How do you even-_

_You wouldn’t know._

_I’m gonna gave to ask dad_

_Aaaaaaaaaaa º-º_

**_FROM: ME -21:00_ **

_You should’ve been doing those ages ago._

_Well, if it’s spring then you have time._

_I might know how to do a few._

_My mom’s half-british._

_If you need the help._

_._

_._

**Spring 2015**

There's a bittersweetness to it.

On one hand, people stare, now. When they were in first year, no one looked at their little team twice, not if there was someone even marginally more popular within sight. Now, though, he sees the reverent look in people's faces that he remembers being directed at Ushijima back then.

Even after they lose.

But they _do_ lose.

And Kei has thought of this before, about the fact that everyone ends up a loser in every tournament except for one team, but it still hits hard. 

Their last chance for this tournament is over, and they have placed third. 

Sometimes Kei wishes he could be detached again because caring about this doesn't feel fine at all. 

Tadashi's end-of-highschool-speech is rousing, and emotional, even when his eyes are brimming over with tears, especially because they are. Hinata himself is sobbing to his side, and Kageyama has this pinched, red-nosed, narrow-eyed expression that says he would probably be crying if he didn't think it was uncool.

It's not planned or anything. A nice thing about getting to semi-finals is that they get to change in actual changing rooms instead of outside, in front of everyone. 

The first and second years hurry to change after the tie-breaker match for third place, keen on giving their third years some privacy inside and securing seats for everyone for the final match -also because Kei knows how it feels to see one's captain cry, it's not nice, and Tadashi's right on the edge of an actual crying jag-. But then, Hinata gets a text, and somehow he manages to change in point-five seconds before he mumbles something about Kenma and disappears through the doorway. 

And Tadashi, Tadashi has just slipped into Kei's arms to crush the breath right out of him -in his one, allowed hug for the game- when his head snaps up. "Wait!" his breath catches. "Tsukki, do you hear anything?"

Kei strains his hearing, but aside from the usual chatter of the stadium, he can barely hear anything. He strains harder and can make out some high voices. "Uh, no? Just, that one K-pop song? I guess they're playing it though the intermission."

Tadashi pales. "What K-pop song?"

"That Sistar one, I-" And then Tadashi's running off, still in his uniform shirt. He even leaves all his stuff back. Kei figures his soulmate's there, but in this crowd, they're not going to be easy to find. Still, Tadashi has been getting impatient as of late, and whoever they are, he's probably going to do his best to find them.

Unlike Kuroo, who said he’d try to make it if only to drive Hinata’s boyfriend, only Kei can’t hear much from him at all.

Kuroo... Fuck, no, he doesn't want to think about Kuroo right now. Kuroo is leaving for Korea soon, and Kei can’t help the forlorn feeling when he thinks about that, so, in general, he just doesn’t.

Kei bends down to remove his knee brace, at least as of late his knee hasn't been acting up. And there's Kageyama, who flops down on the bench, eyes still fixed on the door that Hinata just ran out of. Kei has enough internal conflict, he shouldn't say anything, he shouldn't. "You might as well let him go now. He's going to South America soon, remember?"

Kageyama turns to glare at him. "I'm not holding anyone back." He looks down. "And I know that. We _all_ know that."

Kei rolls his eyes at him. "It was a figure of speech, king," Kei snorts. "I'm not surprised, though, you're _barely_ passing both Japanese and English."

The dark-haired man grits his teeth, hands curling into fists. “I got it, you chicken head.” He growls, tugging his uniform shirt over his head. “You’re probably going deaf from wearing that crap all the time.” He says waving dismissively at Kei’s headset.

Which, okay, shouldn’t make Kei this mad, but it does. He shoots up and turns around in Kageyama’s general direction. The dark-haired man has grown, but so has Kei and he makes the most he can of the two and a half inches that he has on Kageyama. “Better deaf than pining like an idiot.”

Kageyama laughs. “Oh, like you aren’t.”

It makes Kei stagger a little, but he manages to gather enough frustration to pull himself together. “Great, now you’re delusional, figures, having him serve to the back of your head so much had to leave lasting damage.”

“Right," Kageyama's expression is smug and venomous. "he delusional one is not the one who won't see that we all, already know about Kuroo.”

“Oh, so I haven’t been watching you moon over Hinata for three years? Like he rejected you and not the other way around.” Kei hisses. "Believe me, Kageyama, whatever you think you know is just you projecting.”

Kageyama stiffens. “At least I don’t sit around waiting for Kuroo to text me like he gives a rat’s ass about me.” He takes a step back, fixing Kei with a glare. “It’s sad to look at.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Kei grits out, taking a step towards Kageyama, so he’s looming over him again. “And you know what? I don’t feel sorry for Hinata. He can do better. Kei laughs bitterly, even as Kageyama grabs him by the front of his shirt, eyes blazing. “Actually, he is, isn’t he?”

And the Kageyama is slamming him into a wall, and there’s something there. Nothing particularly good, mind you, they both reek of sweat, and the small changing room that they were assigned is stuffy and badly lit, it smells like rubber and mold 

And then, Kei is kissing Kageyama. He’s not sure when flinging insults at each other turns into aggressively mashing their lips together, or when his back ends up pressed so hard to the wall that he can feel every little irregular nook and cranny in the plaster.

Kei only knows that he does end up there and that he's not about to heel to the brute any time soon, even if he is the one pinned to the wall. His glasses are askew, biting at the bridge of his nose, and Kageyama’s shirtless. Though he’s never done anything of this nature before, Kei's fingernails dig deep not his sides. Which only gets him bitten harshly on the lower lip.

He pulls away to glare at Kageyama and then pulls the other forward to return the bite in kind.

And that’s when he has a moment of clarity.

Or not so much clarity, but a moment when he realizes that he can hear Kuroo _humming_ , he can hear Kuroo humming in his _head,_ and he can hear the very same song _outside_. And Kuroo sounds close, he- 

A second later, Kei has pushed Kageyama off him and is frantically rummaging through his bag for his change of clothes. “Hey, what the fuck!?” Kageyama hisses, rubbing his shin where he’s hit it on the bench.

Kei shushes him, face hurting from the way he’s frowning. By the time that humming arrives at the doorway, Kei has managed to get his shirt and one leg of his pants off. “Tsukki?” Kuroo’s voice calls from outside. “Shrimpy said I’d find you here, are you decent?”

“I’m not naked,” Kei responds, not really thinking about it, and doing his best to get his bare leg in the other leg hole but he’s taken off his glasses and it’s hard. 

“Good, then-“ And just like that, Kuroo barges in Kei narrows his eyes, hoping to make the other man’s form clearer, but all he succeeds in is missing the leg hole once again and ending up on his ass in the cold cement floor. “Tsukki! Be careful.” Kuroo chastises.

The older man rushes to him, gently grabbing Kei’s foot and guiding it to the right hole on the pants and reaching out for his glasses, which are folded primly on the bench, then shoving them on Kei’s face. “Oww, you neanderthal, be careful,” Kei complains, looking up at Kuroo.

“Are you alright?” The older man asks, finally coming into focus, all sharp edges and messy dark hair. “A little gratitude from my disciple would be nice, Tsukki.” Kuroo’s leaning over him, amusement and concern mixing on his face. He’s wearing tight blue jeans and a green sweater with the sleeves rolled up. And he’s _leaning_ over Kei.

“I’m fine, how old do you think I am? Ninety?” Kei huffs, dodging the older man’s form and getting back up on his feet. “You could have waited upstairs like a normal person." This close to Kuroo, he can smell the man's cologne, mixed with something bitter and burnt, something that smells suspiciously like cigarette smoke.

“With that crusty attitude, you might as well be.” Kuroo shoots back, standing up. “And forgive me for wanting to say that you were a- Your lip is cut Tsukki.”

Kei looks away, just as Kageyama very noisily grabs his own back and storms off the room. “Yeah, you know that bleeds easily.” He says, dismissive. “The joys of dry skin." He snaps. "Now, can you please step back a little? Since when do you smoke?”

"A couple of months ago. Just when I'm nervous." The other answer, but when Kei turns around, Kuroo most definitely hasn’t stepped back, he’s still looking at the place where Kei’s traitorous lip has decided to split for the second time in this goddamned arena -and he really should moisturize better, Yachi is always telling him- like it has done him a personal wrong. 

And Kei is so sure that the other is going to kiss him then, so sure, but he just did something that might count as kissing with Kageyama, -though it might count as a fight too, and in that case, he can’t say if there was a winner at all- and it feels wrong. It feels wrong, that’s why he speaks, even though he really, really would like to kiss Kuroo once more, even if that just makes three times. “Kuroo, snap out of it, I bit myself blocking.”

It’s obvious that the other doesn’t believe him, but he plays along. “Was it that last spike from the guy with the mohawk?” He asks, weakly stepping back as Kei hurries to get his stuff into his bag.

“Yeah,” Truthfully, he already has forgotten about the guy. “He just had to be left-handed, I always end up injured when they're left-handed.”

His phone vibrates with a text. The preview alone chills Kei even more.

**_FROM: KAGEYAMA -17:34_ **

_And you thought you could judge me_

_No way you heard him coming._

Yeah, he always ends up hurt.

.

.

Tetsuro does his best to ignore it as they walk down the dimly lit corridors to the section f the stands where the rest supposedly are.

And he doesn’t do it for his own sake -he can’t, really, he’s too self-aware and it’s definitely going to come up in his thoughts to haunt him later tonight-, he ignores it for Tsukishima’s and because it’s none of his business. Besides, the only reason he’s still here is that he wanted to say goodbye before moving to Korea for a year, and that's just him being selfish. Tetsuro definitely isn't tracking down everyone else he's friends with. So maybe it’s not exactly a good idea to go around getting jealous.

Or showing it, because he _is_ , jealous. _Massively_ so.

It was in the air in that room, in Tsukishima’s split lip that Tetsuro knows, didn't come from a block. He watched their last game after all. In the way that Kageyama and Tsukishima were both beet red and facing in entirely different directions when he walked in.

He did decide not to pursue Tsukishima, not like that. It wasn't even that Tetsuro had a moment where he realized anything. It's just that it is there, clear as day. Tsukishima is lovely, and he gets Tetsuro, and he's great company, even just through the phone or through video calls. Tetsuro could spend forever just listening to him speak about music, or complain about drab books he's made to read. But he's too young, and he has a soulmate that he clearly isn't opposed to eventually meeting, at the very least.

And Tetsuro has baggage, that's fine for him. But it doesn't feel fair to unload any of it on the blond, at least not right now, so he needs some time away. This internship couldn't have come at a better moment.

Tsukishima throws a guilty look back at Tetsuro. "Are you staying for the last game?" he asks, and there's a note of guilt, a note of longing in his voice.

That's the other thing, he can tell that if he pursues him, Tsukishima won't reject him. And it's best, it's best to put some time and distance between the two of them right now. "Yeah, it makes me all nostalgic." he grins. "You guys are staying too, right? No way you're not staying to watch the team that beat you."

All of that doesn't mean he can't have today.

Just a little bit.

Just today.

Tsukishima rolls his eyes. "Even if I tried to leave, they'd chain me to the stands." he glances down at his phone. "Hinata says they got some decent seats. Kenma's with them."

"Yup, I know," Tetsuro says as they reach the stairs to the bleachers. "After you, Tsukki."

The blond smiles slightly, some of the tension that he has been carrying around since Tetsuro found him in the changing room, melting away from his shoulders. "I was gonna walk ahead anyways, Ser Rooster head."

"You can never say I'm not chivalrous." He knows the smirk he gives then is a little forced, a little too much. But what else is he supposed to do? The banter seems to be putting Tsukishima at ease. "Besides it's a nice view."

Tsukishima huffs. "Asshole." and he starts climbing the stairs. He still doesn't seem mad, just flustered, and it's not hard to spot their rather colorful group. "You're flying out next Friday, right?"

"Yeah," Tetsuro hums. "Already talked to my host family, parents are very nice. I'm scared the teenager is planning to dye my hair purple, but I think I can handle it."

They sit down, Tsukishima beside Yamaguchi -who is animatedly chattering off to a man with dyed hair and a bunch of piercings that Tetsuro hasn't seen in his life- and Tetsuro next to him. He miscalculates though and they end up pressed too close together, from knee to hip. It would be more awkward to scoot away, that's what he tells himself. The blond barks out a laugh. "Purple? That's not your color." He gives Tetsuro a long look like he's trying to picture it but can't. "Why?"

Tetsuro shrugs. "I agree, but she doesn't, and she's thirteen I might just let her."

"I get dibs on any pictures," Tsukishima smirks at him wide and wicked. "But she might want to go for, like silver, or blue." He turns away for that last part, those golden eyes scouring the court from behind the glasses, a light pink blush dusting his cheeks. Tetsuro looks behind him, he can't help but realize that Kageyama is sitting well on the other side of the group.

He looks away too. "Have you spent a lot of time picturing me in different colors?"

The shoulder pressed to his rises, then falls. "Only when you insist on listening to my K-pop playlist for days on end." Then he quickly adds. "I'm disabling mail alerts the next time you do."

"I can still keep using them, right?" Tetsuro asks, one of his hands pressing to the side of Tsukishima's leg, and he feels like they're back on the hill for a second. "I'm gonna need something familiar."

"Sure," Tsukishima sighs then glances at Tetsuro out of the corner of his eye. "Why have you never made one? You're paying for the streaming."

Tetsuro shrugs, withdrawing his hand, right, he shouldn't be doing that in the first place. "I don't know," he says. "You have good taste. I like how you lump songs together, I like your music, in general."

That's not a new thought, he probably has even said it to Tsukishima before. But for some reason, the blond stiffens. And then Tetsuro realizes how that sounds, how it must feel to be told that, the many ways it could be taken as and none of them is ideal. He opens his mouth to recant it but Tsukishima is faster. "Kuroo, I need-"

"Could you two shut up!" Hinata crows from a couple of spots away. "It's staring and we can't hear properly!"

"It's a volleyball game, what are you gonna hear idiot?" Tsukishima hisses at him, but the moment's broken and the blond scoots away from Tetsuro and closer to Yamaguchi, who simply gives them both a pitying look. He probably knows about everything, the calls, the playlists, the late, late nights.

Tetsuro loos back at the court.

Inarizaki wins.

And it's hard to have a heartfelt goodbye in front of 10+ people who are all riled up and happy. Not that Tetsuro has any idea how to make a heartfelt goodbye to Tsukishima, aside from hugging the breath out of him, which he does try to do, but the blond simply dodges, he has experience with Bokuto of all people. It's not surprising. After the attempt at a hug, Tetsuro simply reaches out his hand -the hand that the blond didn't take that first day they met. "Bye, Tsukki. I'll see you-" Tsukishima takes his hand, the soft squeeze he gives it somehow reassuring. "When I see you, I guess."

"Good luck Kuroo," Tsukishima says, in the same breathless voice that Tetsuro's sure he's using.

And if it weren't for the ten-plus people watching Tetsuro would kiss him then, damn Kageyama, damn consequences, because Tsukishima's bottom lip does a tiny tremble-thing.

But he can't, no, he can't

So he lets go of Tsukishima's hand and walks right out of there, Kenma in tow. The shorter man doesn't speak, he knows.

Once they're in the car, Tetsuro goes straight to that playlist, the one he so desperately wants to ask about.

_I’m only honest when it rains_

_If I time it right, the thunder breaks_

_When I open my mouth_

_I want to tell you, but I don’t know how_

.

.

Kei went on a trip to England to see his grandmother once.

He was twelve, she was dying it didn't dawn on him that she was dying until he, his parents, and his mom got back in the plane and he asked when grammy would come to visit in Japan.

His mom started crying, obviously.

It wasn't that he didn't understand that she was sick, or what death was, but that she didn't look too bad. She was wrapped in quilts and pretty, knitted wool things, smiling wearily and asking her grandchildren to come closer. No one went to him and said that she was going to die and everyone knew it.

He groans, why is he thinking about this right now? Oh, right. It's two in the morning and he can't sleep. He couldn't sleep back then either. All this time, he thought that it was because of the jet lag, but maybe it was the whole thing dawning on him.

Anyways, it's still cold at night this time of the year and if he's going to be sleepless, he doesn't have to be thirsty too. He kicks the covers off and sets down for the kitchen.

Besides, Kuroo stopped listening to music about an hour ago it feels strange, to not have him in his head.

To think that Kei almost told him today. He was a second away from saying it, out loud in front of all the people he talks to. Hell, he's more freaked out about that than about the fact that he kissed Kageyama. 

Now, that's something he _can_ call temporary insanity on.

Kuroo is more like long term insanity, he's more Kei being masochistic, and staying close to someone that doesn't want him as a soulmate. Someone that may have wanted him otherwise, but is sure to hate him now when he tells the truth, if he does. For the lie if not for everything else. 

Someone who's leaving for Korea in less than a week and probably knows he kissed Kageyama.

The kitchen light is on, he almost runs right back up to his room, but it might just be that his parents left it on. 

He goes through the doorway and finds his mother sitting placidly in one of the kitchen chairs. She's sipping on a cup of tea, hair pinned up in a messy bun, slight bags under her eyes. She perks up when she notices Kei. "Pumpkin! What are you doing awake so late?" She smiles. "It is a Sunday tomorrow, though, you can go to sleep late. Do you want a cup of tea?"

Kei hesitates a little, but he does love the way his mom is. Tea sounds better than the orange juice he planned on gurgling anyways. "Sure, Mom, thanks."

She gets to work right away, putting on the kettle and sifting through the cabinets, taking a few sips of her own tea as she goes. "I'll make it peppermint ok?"

"Ok." Kei smiles at her, dropping on the chair opposite hers and drawing one of his knees up to his chest. "What's that for?" he asks after a second. His mom's the kind to have several kinds of tea and actually know their uses and stuff. She even has them in this tiny set of colored containers.

She turns her head around for half a second, Kei has her eyes, and it feels like that scrutinizing gaze is his own. "To help you with your anxiety, pumpkin." She says and leans into the counter beside the steaming kettle. The small lines around her eyes tighten. "And don't make that face at me, I may not meddle much but I know my kids."

"I'm a third-year in high-school, it's normal." Kei looks down, it's no good to lie to his mom, he knows. He just needs a little time to either find an out or find a way to actually say it. "In don't need..."

Her eyes narrow, yeah, that's where he gets his temper. "You know? She keeps me up like this a lot." He expects a reprimand, but that's what he gets instead. "I think she's a bartender or a musician. Something like that, she's always up at crazy hours listening to noisy music. But she likes classical in the mornings."

"Wha-" Kei frowns. "Are you talking about your soulmate? I thought you two took pills, I-"

The kettle whistles and Kei's mom pushes off the side of the counter to tend to it. "Your dad is." She says softly. "I didn't take to them too well. I don't think you remember, you were tiny, but I went all yellow, even my eyes!"

"Oh." Kei doesn't have much to say to that.

"I don't mind, though," she continues. "I never had an issue with it, I just didn't want your dad to feel alone doing it, we always have done things together."

"That's nice but-"

"I'm not done, young man." She tuts, placing the cup of tea in front of Kei on the table. "I've always thought this soulmate thing made things very complicated. But young people-" she sighs, face falling. "I still remember the look in your dad's eyes when he met that lady, you've had the same one these past few months."

A heavy silence fills the room. Kei sips at his cup and immediately burns his tongue. "It's nothing big." he coughs. "You don't have to worry."

She laughs, taking her seat across from him. "I'm your mother, I worry." Her brow furrows. "I don't want you to get hurt, or sad, and I know I can't protect you from everything. But I could try to help if you'd tell me..."

I should be simple. it's a simple situation, but he doesn't feel like he can find the words. He stares down at the clear green of his tea and sighs.

"If you really don't want to, I won't be mad. But I would never judge you pumpkin. For anything."

He sighs, long and hard, and his mom looks down at her own cup. She knows him well, doesn't expect him to talk no matter how much she wants Kei to. Maybe that's why he does, and maybe, she knows that. "I met him when I was in first year." Kei sighs at her small gasp. "We're friends."

A concerned frown falls over her face, small and slow. "You two decided on that?" Her lips purse. "It's a big decision to make."

"He-" Kei cuts himself off, he knows what face she's going to make, it's not a nice face to see on her. "He- He takes the pills. Like you two. I never told him."

"Wait, how old is this... man? I guess." Yeah, there's the face.

"He's two years older than me," Kei answers, and he can tell she's doing the math in her head.

"Why? But he must've known. You don't forget that voice just like that." She takes a long drink of the cup. "This boy can't have been taking the pills for too long, he must know-"

Kei lifts his hand and she stops. "He has- look, it's complicated, but he never heard- He doesn't know, I'm sure. He's not that kind of person."

"Oh." She looks down, eyes sad. "There must be a good reason for it, then." Her lips tighten into a smooth, pale, line.

"There is," Kei says

"Then-" she starts. "Then what do you want to do?"

He shrugs. "There's nothing to do." he sighs. "I could tell him, but I don't think that would be... good."

"Well, if he started taking pills so young..." Her shoulders sag. "I really wish you didn't have to go through this."

"I know-"

"But, I mean, it's not the end of the world." She says, with a stubborn look on her eyes. "You can live normally. Do you know? Even if I went back in time I would never take anyone over your dad."

Kei looks up, she's smiling at him, kind and comforting. And he knows that she gets him, that she understands how he feels conflicted, and annoyed and can't help but wonder about so many things. He stays, stunned into silence for a second. "Thanks...um, can I ask you for something?"

"Anything," she answers.

"I want the pills." He blurts it out so fast, he's not sure he even thought it beforehand. It's a plan he gave up on a while ago, but he's eighteen now. And Kuroo is going.

Kuroo is gone.

She laughs. "Well, you could get them on your own now." She says, and Kei remembers that he is eighteen and on his way to Sendai college, not thirteen, and confiding on his mom about a first crush, though that's how he has felt through this entire conversation. Remembers there's a lot ahead of him, and he could get the damn pills for himself. But he wants to cling to this a little longer. "But our therapist can write you a prescription, no problem."

Kei takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. the smell of peppermint fills his nose and he has to press his lips together for a second so they don't shake. "Thanks, mom."

When he finishes exhaling, he lets Kuroo go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd IT'S TIMESKIP TIME BABY!!  
> It was actually supposed to happen like halfway through the chapter, but my brain kept going like **idea for another scene** so it took a wholeass chapter. (and an angsty one, I promise this story isn't all angst, there's gonna be a bunch of fluff... eventually)  
> While I've come to like Tsukkikage, they won't be a pairing here, at least not romantically, just thought I should amke that clear.  
> I'd love to know what you thought about this!
> 
> Love, Kyrye.


	4. I have a lot (of regrets about that)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New jobs don't always mean new problems, and some things you just can't run away from

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, as of two hours ago it's my birthday!! Lol and I'm here typing.  
> But for real, I wanted to have this out before today, I've been stuck on an exchange gift -rewrote it all, and it's a 20+k monster-, so oh god, I really didn't think I'd make it. I'm so happy.  
> We're diving right into the timeskip now! I hope you all enjoy it, because I really enjoyed writing it <3<3  
> (btw, someone asked for my playlist for this, so here it is: [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1wwB4Z4Wdm5nNWLArfKOg0?si=TnP19ErySMGx-FRcJyuPUA) it's not complete and not all the songs will be in the fic, it's also not in any particular order) (hope i linked that lol)

**Spring 2019**

Kageyama doesn't sleep in Kei's bed every night.

After all, they're not a couple, or dating, or anything really.

Which is good because he kicks, and he's a blanket hog. 

They do, however, end up sleeping in the same bed before big games more often than not. Somehow the stress and the anticipation make for that one mistake from the locker rooms in their third year of Nationals to keep repeating itself over and over.

Tomorrow is the day Kei has what's probably the most important match of his career as a volleyball player so far. If his team wins, they immediately ascent to league V1, which means bigger matches, audiences, paycheques. And it _is_ what they have been working towards for the entirety of these last three years. Yeah, it makes sense that Kageyama sleeps in his bed tonight, even if he _has_ cocooned himself in all of Kei's blankets, leaving him to shiver on his side of the bed.

-of course, they don't _cuddle_ \- 

Kei turns to glare at the other, he's fast asleep and still a little flushed, hair in disarray from that dorky hairdo in which he insists on wearing it.

He only admits this to himself after sex, and well into the night so he can pretend it was the endorphins and the lack of sleep. But Kei's not that sure what he would have done without Kageyama these past few years, or what Kageyama would have done without _him_. The bastard's still irritating and grates on his nerves -and doesn't know how to do laundry which once caused all of Kei's white clothes to end up pink-, but he did get Kei through the first few weeks of side effects of the soulmate pills -which were a puking, fainting hell-and the sex is great. Yeah, the sex is great.

It's also something that they don't really speak of, a tacit agreement that only began a whole year after they moved in together at the insistence of their parents.

Kei remembers the day vividly, they drove back from the airport, after seeing Hinata off to Brazil -along with the rest of the old and new Karasuno team, and _Kenma_ -, in Kageyama's crappy car that used to be his sister's. And when Kageyama stopped at the convenience store Kei said nothing -you don't say anything when the person has handed you tissues and water while you puked your heart out- he just texted the other that he better get him some Kahlua once he was inside the store.

And then, they proceeded to get so drunk that neither of them could be held accountable for the moment when Kageyama quite shakily climbed on Kei's lap and kissed him like he wanted the world to end or disintegrate in a million of shiny dust motes.

Like he wanted for time to turn back at least four years.

-like he wanted to get on a plane to Brazil-

Kei indulged him, after all, Kageyama refused to take the pills back then, he still does. And Hinata being Hinata that must be a pretty rough place to be in.

And then Kei hurt his shoulder while training and Kageyama indulged him.

And then Kageyama wasn't picked to be a starter for some match on account of him overworking himself and Kei indulged him.

And then Kei forgot to take his pill one morning then proceeded to spend the whole morning listening to Kuroo hum a song that he had just added on the playlist that he'd so begrudgingly made as a corral for the songs that remind him of his soulmate, and Kageyama both brought him the pills to his campus and indulged hi in an empty classroom.

_Indulgence_ , that's all.

And it helps with the silence sometimes too.

Despite everything, Kei had resigned himself to his soulmate's voice for three years. Not having it around felt liberating, but also... also a little lonely. Of course, that has faded over time.

He tugs a blanket out of Kageyama's grubby little paws and wraps himself up in it, he's all sweaty and gross, but tomorrow's laundry day anyways. 

It takes a long while for Kei to fall asleep.

Tonight the silence is deafening.

.

.

Chance is a funny thing.

Funny and cruel.

Tetsuro hates it, hating it is what his whole soulmate thing is about, he wants to choose, at least in some measure.

But it's more his heart's choice, than his, he figures. And his heart is hung up on a shimmery memory of golden hair and a bunch of songs that he still listens to. Even if it's been more than a year since he's even texted Tsukishima. That's probably why he still feels so tender about it, the whole thing feels unfinished, a line cut too short, too abruptly.

It just happened, growing apart is natural.

Even if it feels like anything but.

And now, now that he’s worked with the JVA for a year and a half now that he’s had every chance to run into Tsukishima in any other environment -at another game, at a party, at whatever, just not like this- it’s here that he has to finally cross paths with the blond.

-he ignores the stupid little voice that says Tetsuro _could_ have always sought him out-

If waiting for him and his team to finish celebrating their last victory in V2 so that he can placate them before the reporters sweep in even counts as crossing paths.

His eyes search the other out in the court, he isn’t hard to find -despite the apparent abundance of people with blond hair in the Sendai Frogs- grinning as he is with their setter's arm around his neck.

And Tetsuro knows this because he has seen their games, but Tsukishima _looks_ , he-

Now is not the time. 

Even if his stomach is fluttering with what he would denominate excitement if he had to. Even if last year he tried to find that blond head in the crowd at a game he was more than sure Tsukishima went to and couldn’t.

Even if he suddenly feels the urge to start humming that one song Tsukishima added to _that_ one playlist around two years ago and that Tetsuro kept listening to on the drive here.

_And oh, I've known it for the longest time_   
_And all my hope_   
_All my words are all over written on the signs_   
_When you're on my road walking me home_

Wishful thinking isn’t going to help him now, he’s working, and the team is coming closer. He carefully strays his eyes from Tsukishima’s face as they do. Tetsuro takes a deep breath, erases the tune from his mind, and puts on his best corporate monkey smile.

He’s _working._

.

.

Kei still remembers the day of the Adlers vs Jackals game.

Both because it was a crazy fucking game. But also because Kageyama woke him up by shimmying out of Kei's bed at five in the morning like some sort of lunatic -it’s just to relieve stress, there are no feelings and they don’t talk about it- and went off to the treadmill then ran as fast as he could for god knows how long.

Maybe Kei should have gotten up at five in the morning today. He never did ask Kageyama if that worked for him, but if it did, even a little, he would’ve. 

This is, in many ways the same situation, it should extrapolate nicely.

Only Kageyama fucking _knew_.

God, Kei hates surprises. 

Not when they’re clad in a black suit that fits so well that it’s probably not comfortable and wearing a blood-red tie that makes Kei want to _tug._ And especially not when they’re leaning against the wall of one of the court accesses Along with enough reporters that Kei probably won’t be able to make a clear escape without knocking someone to the ground and getting sued or something.

After he started taking the pills it was easy to force himself to let Kuroo go, two years later, he knows it was for the best. But his perfect plan didn’t contemplate this.

Didn’t contemplate the way that Kuroo turns, smirk razor-sharp and so adult, the way he seems to command the reporters, or how his eyes reflect the light when they meet Kei’s. It feels like the world has become a slow-motion movie and that’s so cliché that it makes Kei want to barf.

Then Koganegawa, whose thick arm is around Kei’s shoulders, leans in to whisper in his ear. “Yo, what the hell is going on?” And the words are enough to ground Kei, to return him to the body with the aching calves and the sweat-drenched hair that he inhabits.

Still, he breathes in, and Kuroo is so close now that Kei can smell his cologne, it makes the little hairs on his arms stand on end. 

He is close enough to hear Koganegawa’s question too. That smirk grows wider, showing sharp canines that are ridiculous, because what is he? A cat? “Koganegawa-kun, you didn’t think a few of our friends here weren’t going to want to interview you? After all your team just switched leagues, that’s big, huge actually.”

Kyoutani speaks next, voice a low growl, and thankfully he steps forward and comes between Kei and Kuroo. “Who are you again? You're not from one of those tabloids like the one from last month, are ya-“

Kuroo raises his hands in a placating manner. “Whoa there. My name is Kuroo Tetsuro, I’m here on behalf of Japan’s Volleyball Association. I’ll be their liaison in this prefecture for at least the next year. I just wanted to give you guys a warm welcome to V1.”

Kei’s brain -which is apparently like thirty seconds behind on the conversation like some sort of old VHS- finally decides to give his muscles some sort of freedom. Only, they’re not quite that prepared so all that comes out from his mouth is a wheeze that sounds a little like Kuroo’s name.

Hazel eyes turn to him. “Tsukki, nice to see you again.” Kuroo grins. “I expected a warmer greeting from my Kouhai, but I guess you haven't changed much.”

That gets Kei’s mouth working, at least. “It’s Tsukishima,” he shoots back icily, standing up straighter almost on reflex. “I thought you stayed in Korea.”

Kuroo shrugs. “Just an extra six months.” He seems colder than Kei remembers, more detached as his arms cross over his chest. "I've been back for a while, it's a wonder we didn't run into each other earlier."

“Wait, what? You didn’t go to Karasuno man, I’d know.” Koganegawa interjects, removing his arm from Kei’s back.

“He was in Nekoma High.” Kei hisses at Koganegawa. “We used to go to training camps with them.” He explains, as their coach runs up, beaming wide. He claps a hand over Kuroo’s shoulder, glancing warily at the reporters.

“I’m sorry, forgot to tell you all this would happen,” he says. “Kuroo-san did let us know beforehand but since-“ he cuts off. “Anyways, it’s just a couple of questions, I know you’re all tired but I’m buying drinks tonight.” Then his eyes fall right on Kei. “Tsukishima-kun, could you accompany us for a moment?”

Oh, it’s _that._

Kei was wondering when it would come up again. His deal with Mishima was that they would discuss it after this game, and apparently, the other man can’t spare a second. He must be getting some pressure to confirm or something. Kei nods, and follows Mishima further down the court entrance, bypassing the reporters until they can turn the corner for some privacy.

Kei’s mulling over many ways of saying that he doesn’t have an answer yet, and to please get off his back. So much that he doesn’t notice Kuroo following them until his deep baritone booms from behind him. There’s quite an echo to these halls. “You guys have an excellent team.” He says, and Kei whips around.

Mishima smiles. “Thank you Kuroo-san, now about-“

“I think this is a private conversation?” Kei turns his head towards Kuroo, eyes narrowing. He’s just stating the obvious unless Mishima has led him back here for something else.

Mishima scratches behind his head, a sheepish look on his face. “The JVA has an interest in whether you're renewing your contract too, Tsukishima-kun.” He says. “In fact, Kuroo-san called me yesterday to confirm, I was planning on talking to you sometime next week, but you see…”

Kei wrinkles his nose. “Why would the JVA care if I-“ He cranes his head tot eh side, eyes meeting Kuroo’s. “Is this like when Kageyama did those yogurt commercials? Besides, my answer’s still the same, I have to check, especially now.”

Kuroo steps forward. “Endorsements are important.” He says, all too reasonable. “And, at this moment, there's a bunch of attention focused on your team that could be capitalized on. That makes this a good time to offer them. Besides, we’re doing a little campaigning to promote the sport.”

“The team owners would be delighted to have you sign.” Mishima blurts out. “Of course, you know that already. They’re even willing to give you a greater bump in pay than usual for a team changing leagues.” And, alright, Kei _is_ being a little difficult, but since November, the team owners and all their little acolytes have been on his case about this. It’s irritating, so he reserves the right to be petty.

Kei huffs. “I barely got off the court.” He looks away, wringing his hands together. “I still need to get some things sorted out, give me two weeks-“

Mishima purses his lips. “Until Friday.” He says sternly. “And you will agree to the promos?”

On one hand, promos generally pay well, on the other, Kei really isn’t the type to do things like that, moreover, he's not especially wanting for money. Still, he won't have to do them if he chooses to leave the team in the end, though that possibility is up in the air. “Alright, whatever.” His gaze shifts between Kuroo -who is looking at him through narrowed eyes, eyes that seem to be analyzing his every move-. “But I still need the time.”

The coach grins. “I’ll let them know.” He looks way too smug for Kei’s taste like he knows something he doesn’t. “Is it any trouble for your people to wait Kuroo- _san_?”

Kuroo shakes his head, hand coming up to brush through the -somewhat tamer than Kei remembers- mop of hair to the right side of his head. “Not if it’s just until Friday, I’m sure Tsukishima has his reasons.”

It’s almost patronizing, Kei can feel a vein popping up on his forehead. He wants to snap back with something, but Mishima beats him to it, clapping a hand over his shoulder and laughing. “Well, I’ll let you know.” He starts pushing Kei back towards the throng of reporters. “Would you like to come to have post-game drinks with us? It’s only polite we invite you.”

Kei definitely should’ve shimmied out of bed at five am like a lunatic. Maybe then the way Kuroo smirks and says yes wouldn’t feel so much like the earth’s cortex is crumbling under his feet. 

.

.

This is kind of implicit in his job description. 

Really, that’s the only reason he goes.

It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that the whole team is coming and… well. He’s just trying to convince himself that he _isn’t_ being a creep but it’s not working at all. Especially when whatever he was talking about with Mishima -something dull, probably -flies right out of one of Tetsuro’s ears when the team trickles out of the changing rooms. 

Tsukishima is one of the first, which is odd, but he’s not gonna complain. The blond comes out in green lined white sweatpants and a tight green t-shirt under a similarly colored jacket. The sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, and Tetsuro _knows_ this, he’s painfully aware of it, but wow, Tsukishima has grown.

His hair falls softly around his head, it’s natural curve softened by the weight of it and the dampness from a hurried shower after a game. Around his neck is a very fancy headset, which sends a wave of nostalgia enough to swallow an archipelago whole crashing over Tetsuro.

And of course, he has to comment on it, when the blond comes close enough he leans forward, poking at the plastic as his eyes find Tsukishima’s stunned ones. “Some things never change, huh?” He asks, and can’t help the thought that Tsukishima looks a lot like a deer caught the headlights of an oncoming truck.

“You still peruse my playlists once in a while.” The blond looks away, pushing the frame of his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “There’s no reason for this to surprise you.” His voice is cold, almost practiced. Tetsuro can’t help but purse his lips and glare a little.

Did he do something wrong now?

"I thought you disabled the e-mail alerts," Tetsuro says, voice smaller.

Tsukishima's lips press into a tight white line. "The app tells me, once in a while," he says, and then they have to pile into the cars of the people who actually drove here.

Tetsuro gets to ride with the coach and other two random players whose names he doesn't quite remember. The sky outside is a mix of orange and purple, offset by fluffy looking clouds in that color between blue and dark purple that he can never really describe. Tetsuro leans against the window, wondering how far he should push with Tsukishima, if at all.

If it were anyone else, he wouldn't have any doubts seeing people from high school makes him nostalgic, but giddy, and somewhat content. 

But there was always this thing with Tsukishima -namely, he had the biggest crush in the world on the blond-, and it might not be the best decision, feelings-wise.

Fuck, he doesn't want to be wise.

The evening passes pretty fast there are enough people here that he and Tsukishima end up in opposite ends of the table, so all he can do is steal glances when he thinks nobody's looking, which is hard. Besides, one of Tsukishima's teammates has already caught him twice -Kyoutani, he's called, Tetsuro thinks-, he has two dark streaks cutting through his bleached hair and looks to be the kind to punch first and ask questions later.

All in all, Tsukishima seems happy, he has this wry friendship thing going on with the teammate's he's sitting beside. The setter, particularly, reminds Tetsuro of a much taller Hinata.

And for a second Tetsuro thinks that this is gonna be it. One of those epilogues that only leaves you feeling a little empty and unsettled. He drinks his beer and a couple of shots of liquor with the tolerance of the usual office worker. The burn of the alcohol going down, easing the anxious feeling in his chest just a little.

By the time the group decides to leave, there are more than a couple of them that are tottering around and slurring his words. Tsukishima isn't one of them, though there is a flush high on his cheeks and he seems to be smiling a lot more than usual.

They walk outside and Tetsuro sees him, bent over, fixing one of his shoelaces. 

And there's this moment when he knows he _could_ leave well enough alone. 

"Are you taking a cab home?" Tetsuro asks.

Tsukishima startles, head-turning to glare at him. "I live relatively close by." He shrugs. "I wanted to walk."

Tetsuro bites his lip. "Want me to walk you? I mean I still have no idea how to find my way in this city. But I'm sure I'm on the other side of town from my hotel."

"And walking me home would help you _how_?" Tsukishima straightens up. With him standing at full height, the difference between them is just enough to be noticeable. The reddish tint from the neon lights of the many bars and restaurants that surround them bathes the blond's elegant features, casting strange shadows across his skin.

The way Tsukishima's eyebrows rise sends a shiver up his back. "For one, we'll be out of this bar area and I'll be able to get a cab without a half-hour wait." Tetsuro looks down at his shoes, still shiny from where he polished them this morning. "Besides, as I've said before, you're not the worst company. And I'm hoping to woo you into renewing your contract, not gonna lie."

"Suit yourself." Tsukishima huffs, but the corner of his mouth twitches a little. "Where are you even staying?"

The blond says his goodbyes while Tetsuro goes to find the Frogs' coach to thank him for the hospitality. He expects to see Tsukishima already halfway down the street when he goes out. Instead, he's leaning against one of the panels that make up the restaurant's entrance. 

"Shall we go?" 

The blond rolls his eyes at him. "Try to keep up." 

"Tsk." Tetsuro falls in step beside him, leaning forward, hands in his pockets. "You seriously overestimate how long your legs are." He grins.

"And you know this how?" Tsukishima flushes harder, shoulders growing tenser when he notices that, inevitably Tetsuro's eyes have drifted down. "Stop staring at my legs."

Quickly looking away, Tetsuro whistles. "I wasn't." 

.

.

So Kei’s tipsy. 

He’s not letting Kuroo walk him home like they’re still in high school because of that though. He’s not that lame. He’s allowing Kuroo to come because he doesn't want it to feel like he’s totally blowing the guy off. After all, for some time there, they were friends. Good ones, even.

And they are-

And that’s all they were, really, even if some people would say otherwise.

Still, he makes his steps slightly less hurried, less wide, letting Kuroo walk a quarter of a step ahead, studying the way the light from the far-above lampposts paints his face. Kuroo walks with his back straight -unlike Kei who slumps a little- his chest out, his shoulders firm. His suit jacket is slung over his right shoulder. He looks like a walking photo shoot. 

Kei’s breath catches in his throat.

_Curiosity_ , he can call this gnarled root of a thing tugging him towards the older man, _curiosity_. 

“I didn’t think you’d end up playing semi-pro, y’know?” Kuroo says when they’re already halfway to Kei's apartment building. 

“Are you saying you didn’t think I had what it took?” Kei glares at the sidewalk in front of him. Kuroo isn’t wrong, he’d been ready to let his short-lived volleyball career fizzle out after high school, maybe play for his Uni team, but no more. “Because I’ll take offense.”

And then, right before his graduation ceremony, he got an invite to join the reserves of the Sendai Frogs. 

Kuroo scoffs at him. “You always had the potential.” An image of Kuroo, at eighteen, telling Kei that his blocks were weak flits through his mind. “I just didn’t think you’d want to. But I guess I was wrong. For what it’s worth, I admire that you did it on top of college, that must not have been easy.”

“I found the time.” Kei shrugs, and though he tries not to let it, his mouth curls into a smirk. “And in the end Bokuto was right. I may hate working out on Sunday mornings, but there are things that make it worthwhile.”

“You can say you like it, you know?” Kuroo huffs out a laugh. “It’s just me here and I haven’t told anyone that you like Taylor Swift yet.” He leans back to look Kei in the eye -in that way that’s so _his-_. Kei feels for a second like he never stopped seeing it. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone you admitted to enjoying something other than music and dinosaurs.”

The comment catches Kei off guard. Mostly because, though he knows Kuroo listens to the playlists on occasion, it’s weird to just hear him mention that like it's no big deal. Like he knows Kei’s music as well as Kei himself. That’s not something easy, considering just how much of it he listens to. The only person who might be able to claim something like that in any other situation would be a soulmate and Kuroo may be his, but he also sort of isn’t. “I really should lock those playlists.” He grimaces. “And I have exactly three of her songs there.”

“Don’t be mean.” Kuroo tuts him. “I’ll have you know they really helped when I got all homesick. You’re not allowed to take them away.”

Kei bites his lip, maybe he's drunker than he thought if this intense urge to say something he _shouldn’t_ is anything to go by. It would be no use now, anyway. “Well, you’re home now, hardly need something familiar to keep you grounded. Right?”

“Ah, but I’m in a strange city still. At least I’m properly fluent in the language here.” Kuroo looks up, eyes lost in the vast, starless darkness above them. “Unless you’re willing to be my something familiar, _then_ I wouldn’t mind.” He turns his head, eyes fixated on Kei's now.

And he’s really going to say something stupid if he looks now, Kei is sure of it. It’s like Kuroo is some sort of gorgon that would make him spill the guts he’s been hiding for six years the moment their gazes met. “I really don’t think you need it.” He looks down at his feet, at the cracks on the asphalt under them. Searching desperately for a way to shift the conversation’s track in their shadows. “You’ve always been Mr. popular, even half of my team already loves you.” 

Smugness radiates from the other man, even as Kei stops because they’ve reached the entrance to his apartment building. “I _am_ quite lovable.” He turns and Kei does have to look him in the eye then. “But you have your charm too, or a whole table of PR representatives wouldn’t have chosen you as the face for that campaign.”

Kei can feel his ears burn. “I haven’t said yes.” He reminds Kuroo, who reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket to pull out a cigarette box and a lighter. “Why’d they even pick me? Have they seen me in anything other than pictures? I'm not publicity material.” He frowns at Kuroo. “That’s gross.”

Kuroo just shrugs and lights a cigarette with practiced ease then lifts it to his lips. “I believe they’re playing into your ‘cool’, 'stoic' side.” He says, making air quotes with his free hand. “I mean I thought of telling them you’re a huge nerd. But I figured it would be more fun to let them find out for themselves.” He takes a deep drag of the cigarette, the cherry flares for a second, casting a soft glow over the elegant fingers that hold it. “They aired that one campaign with Kageyama though. I don’t think they’re afraid of a little dorkiness.”

“I believe I’ve heard that be described as ‘stoic’ or ‘deconstructed'.” Kei drawls, the joke evident in his voice. “I wonder what planet people who think that live in sometimes.” He snatches the cigarette box from Kuroo’s grasp, twirling it between his fingers.

“I’m sure most of them just don’t want to admit that they didn’t believe he couldn’t follow a one-page script.” Kuroo laughs, he takes a step back and sits on the edge of the flowerbeds that adorn the front of the building. “They’re stubborn like that… I thought my smoking was gross,” he says, as Kei lights a cigarette of his own and plops down beside him. “Bad Tsukki, you’re an athlete.”

Kei takes a drag and rolls his eyes at the man. “I’m allowed to be gross twice a month. This is as good a time as any.” He stays silent for a second, looking at the newly lit tip of the cigarette. Then he asks, because, what could he lose? “If your knee hadn’t been acting up, would you have kept playing?”

Kuroo gives him a bewildered look, then his eyes drift to the sky again. “I… think so,” he says. “I don’t know for how long, but I did have a few good offers. Bo and I even talked about it sometimes. Is this about your contract?”

He blows, smoke escaping his mouth in thick rivulets. “Sort of. I do have a job lined up. If I take this I would have to put that off.” He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. “Especially now.”

“Because you’re V1 now?” Kuroo asks and Kei nods. “What job is it?”

“I’d be a junior curator at the Sendai City Museum.” He says. “It’s the bottom of the food chain, but I’d get a decent start.”

Kuroo waits for a second before he answers, humming some tune that Kei can only hear in the outside of his head. “I dunno Tsukki.” His lips curl around the nickname. Like it’s something that belongs to him. “You know what I’d do. Like, you’d have to not know me at all not to.” He sighs. “I dunno,” he repeats. “You should give yourself a chance in whatever you want. I’m sure you’ll be brilliant anyways.”

Kei expected a lot more pushing and flailing from that. He’s sure that three years ago that’s exactly what would’ve happened. But Kuroo seems to have grown up as much- no, more than he has, he realizes. Kei can’t help but laugh. “I think I will.” He looks up hoping to catch what it is that keeps getting Kuroo’s attention. 

“Uh?” Kuro cranes his head to the side, confused.

It still feels too intimate to say that he just realized he asked Kuroo hoping for encouragement. He’s just met him again a couple of hours ago, his approval shouldn’t mean this much. “Nevermind. There’s no wearing weird stuff in this thing, right?”

The older man throws his head back and laughs. “Oh Tsukki,” he grins. “I’m sure there would be if they could get away with it. But it’s all family-friendly and wholesome, don’t worry.” A smug smile spreads over his face.

They stay like that, in silence, until Kuroo’s cigarette goes out. He glances timidly at Kei, so out of character that it’s startling. “Hey, Tsukki.” He asks, a little breathless, all humor gone from his voice.

“Yeah?”

“Did you ever meet that soulmate of yours?” Kuroo asks, and suddenly Kei’s heart is stuck in his throat. “Just curious.” he amends.

It takes him a second to gather himself and get enough air in his lungs to manage an answer. “No,” Kei says and it sounds too sharp, even for him. “I don’t hear him, anymore.”

When he sees Kuroo’s face fall, in a mixture of shame and horror that makes Kei’s innards twist on themselves, he realizes how that sounds. “I’m sorry.” Kuroo hurries to says. “I shouldn’t have asked. You have-“

It's kind of rude to remind someone of a soulmate that has passed away, and that's what Kuroo took it as.

Kei shivers, the pleasant, warm night has turned freezing. “Not like that.” He hurries to say. “It- Like you.” Great, now he can't string more than three words together. 

“I don’t think I’m getting what you mean,” Kuroo says, brow furrowed.

Kei takes a deep breath and tries again. “I started taking pills.” He says and searches for some comprehension in Kuroo’s eyes but he only finds surprise. “It really is a lot less troublesome.”

“I-“ Kuroo’s mouth hangs open for a second like he can’t figure out what to say. “I see, Tsukki-“

And then a cab stops right in front of them. A tall person steps out of it and Kei has never been more glad to see Kageyama. In his life. 

The setter’s eyes meet his and Kei is very glad that they’ve been roommates for so long now because Kageyama just knows to interrupt and not stalk past with some acrid comment like he’d usually do.

-there had to be perks too it besides the occasional sex, he figures-

“Tsukishima. You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone over.” He says curtly, then turns to Kuroo, bowing a little. “Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo stands, ruffling Kageyama’s hair. “My, haven’t you grown?” he snickers. “We might have to catch up another day, though. I was just going to call a cab, but since you’ve brought one right to me....” He gestures at the driver to wait.

Kageyama looks up at him blankly. “Sure. I’ll see you around.”

The older man doesn’t seem to have an answer to that, so he turns to Tsukishima with a grin that looks too perfect to be all genuine. “We’ll be seeing each other, I guess. It was nice to see you, Tsukki.” Then, the creepy grin melts into something softer, a lot more palatable. “I missed talking to you.”

Kei stands, stretching out his hand for Kuroo to take. “I trust you won’t let them make me wear something strange.” He says. “It was nice to see you too. Kuroo. I-“ he hesitates. “Have a safe trip.”

Kuroo shakes his hand. “Thanks.” And he turns around as the words Kei almost said whither and die in his throat.

_I missed your voice._

.

.

**_FROM: UNKNOWN NUMBER-9:49_ **

_You weren’t serious about the playlists_

_Right?_

_Right???_

**_FROM: ME-10:14_ **

_What if I was?_

**_FROM: KUROO TETSURO-10:15_ **

_I might get very sad º-º_

_Also, give me a couple of hours._

_I never marked the songs I like._

_Be a pal Tsukki._

**_FROM: ME-10:24_ **

_Whatever._

_Its too much work to lock them._

_How did you get my number?_

**_FROM: KUROO TETSURO -10:29_ **

_TSUKKIIIII!_

_:D_

_I’ll have you know I’m very important_

_And I have my sources_

**_FROM: ME-10:29_ **

_You asked my coach, didn’t you?_

**_FROM: KUROO TETSURO-10:32_ **

_Aw, you’re no fun_

.

.

**Summer 2019**

It’s not for a lack of trying on Tetsuro’s part, but the next time he sees Tsukishima it’s already starting to get unbearably hot.

Or maybe it’s just the suits and the fact that he has taken to walking in them to and from home. His new apartment is not that far from the building where he works. It’s an awkward distance, though because it’s just close enough that he can walk and withstanding the traffic jams seems uncalled for.

But god it’s awful to walk that distance in a suit.

At least, today he's not going to his usual office, which means he's taking his car with its glorious AC

Sometimes he really misses his first work back in Korea where he was more on the inside -data entry- side of things and could mostly show up to work in business-casual without having to worry about people calling him unprofessional. 

Still, he’s a social person, he likes talking to people and he didn't get to do that too much back there.

He _is_ a social person and he _does_ thrive on getting along with others. So that’s exactly why Tsukishima acting so erratic these past few months has been driving him up the walls.

It’s hard to figure out why the blond has been oscillating between welcoming and acting like he actually wants to pick up their friendship where they left it off, and acting like a total headcase that replies every twenty hours and in monosyllables. At least through text.

At least today they're not texting, by virtue of his work, Tetsuro is supervising a few things, the campaigns associated with players from teams in Sendai being one of them.

And today, precisely today they're shooting Tsukishima's he already had a pretty light day, only needed to move one meeting to get it all off.

He is aware this isn't very professional, but it's less aggressive than cornering the blond for answers, and even if he weren't staying all day the whole thing _is_ part of his duties.

The traffic jams aren't too bad and Tetsuro gets there relatively early, the director of the shoot gives him a little tour as more of a courtesy than anything. He is only supposed to drop in for a bit to see the results and maybe get a couple of pictures with the player for the associations’ social media accounts.

By the time the tour is done, he still hasn’t crossed paths with Tsukishima. The director shows him to a cushy sofa with a coffee machine beside it before going off to check on something or the other, which Tetsuro ditches the second the man is out of sight -he _does_ take a coffee, he’s only human-. And then goes off, trying to look as inconspicuous as he can.

It’s not hard to find Tsukishima. “You have such pretty skin Tsukishima!” The make-up artist is saying. “It's so unfair! I barely have to do anything.”

Tsukishima just grunts, he has a look on his face that betrays how much he wishes he hadn’t bent and accepted the offer to do this thing. Tetsuro can’t help but stop to take a long look at him, though, as the girl said, he has a very small amount of makeup on. His hair is fluffier than usual, probably blowdried and he’s wearing his Frogs uniform. “You do know I can see you in the mirror, right Kuroo?” he drawls, and Tetsuro jumps. “Might as well stop being a creep, don’t you think?”

“Uh, sorry, who are you?” The makeup artist asks, turning round to pin Tetsuro with her bright blue eyes. She’s a pretty woman with short black hair, probably in her mid-twenties. 

“Kuroo Tetsuro.” He grunts, walking up to them and holding out his hand to the woman. “JVA, I'm dropping in to take a peek, you are?”

Then she smiles and he gets his answer, even before the woman opens her mouth. “Miwa Kageyama.”

“As in-“

“Tobio’s big sister, yeah.” She grins wider. “You know our Tsukishima here from back in high school, don’t you? I think I remember you from their games.”

“I’m none of yours.” Tsukishima grumbles. “Or the king’s .” He tilts his head back to look at Tetsuro straight in the eye. “You didn’t tell me you’d be here hovering over me.” 

Tetsuro just shrugs. "Part of the job."

“You’ve lived with my little brother for four years.” Miwa taps Tsukishima’s nose lightly, mindful of her work. “You’re practically family, don’t get all shy.”

Tsukishima’s expression sours. “I’m more of a nanny for your overgrown toddler of a brother.” He huffs. “If he lived alone he’d have drowned in Volleyballs by now.” He chances a glance at Tetsuro, who has moved over to lean on the small vanity in front of Tsukishima. “Is that coffee?”

The way his face lights up is adorable, Tetsuro grins. “Yup.”

The blond purses his lips. “What’s it going to take? I can’t move from here, they said they might call me any minute.”

Miwa narrows her eyes, giving Tsukishima’s ear a light tug. “ Are you gonna ruin all my hard work now?”

“I’ll use a straw, _gods_. You're even judgier than Tobio.” Tsukishima gives her an exasperated look, then his gaze shifts to Tetsuro. “I’m running on three hours of sleep, at this pace I will fall asleep on whatever you’re having me do.”

Tetsuro looks at Miwa, who seems quite amused -she also looks a _lot_ like her brother, wow-. “This is a coffee commercial, there's coffee everywhere-" He chuckles "-you didn’t tell him?”

“He was having a lot of fun grumbling.” She says, then looks between the two of them, and her lips purse even more. “Oh, fine, but only because you’re like fa-mi-ly.” She tugs at Tsukishima’s ear again. “And because Tobio might’ve really drowned in volleyballs if we'd let him live alone.”

Tsukishima groans. “Kuroo?”

“I want to know how you and Kageyama ended up living together.” He blurts out, almost without thinking. Because he’s been wondering that since that one night two months ago. Whenever asked, Tsukishima just gives vague answers. “And a couple of selfies.” He adds then because that’s something he’s actually supposed to do today.

Not pry into Tsukishima’s private life. 

“You're a pain in the ass,” Tsukishima grumbles, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

“Hey, it’s for the Association's socials-“

“But fine.” The blond interrupts him. “Two sugars.” Then he turns back to the mirror and pulls out his phone. Tetsuro can see him going into the music app from where he is. Wow, he must be really stressed.

He pushes off the vanity. “On it.” He says, hoping he’s going to remember the way back to that couch and the coffee machine. 

It’s not _too_ strange that Tsukishima is living with one of his high school friends. Rent over here is pretty high and living alone is not very fun. Tetsuro has learned that the hard way, the family that he lived with in Korea was always busy and noisy, and now he mostly comes home to silence and bills.

But still, something about the familiarity he seems to have with Kageyama's sister is a little unsettling. Especially because he knows from Kenma’s own mouth that he and Hinata are still going quite strong. It was strange, seeing Kenma so testy last year around the time of that one match, but in the end, he and Hinata went home together that day and all the worrying seemed to have been for naught.

It’s a nice relationship, the one they have.

Tetsuro sighs, here he is, getting envious of a guy that probably has even worse luck in love than he does. With a new coffee in his hand, he rushes back to where Tsukishima is sitting, his phone is playing some music, too low for what he knows the blond’s taste is. But he probably can't mess up his hair with the headset.

Miwa is nowhere to be seen, and Tsukishima’s head is thrown back, eyes closed, face illuminated by the makeup lamp on the vanity. 

His lips are a soft, coral pink, and Tetsuro knows the song, it's one that Tsukishima has been listening to since high school he starts singing along before he knows it.

_Well I'm so glad we know just what to do_

_And no one's left_

_Stumbling around_

_Tumbling around_

_Fumbling around In the dark_

Tsukishima’s head stands up, his golden eyes snapping open wide. Tetsuro stops singing and hands him the paper cup, lips pressing into a tight line. He’s not used to singing, definitely doesn’t have the voice for it. “You know, I’d have bet you’d move in with Yamaguchi, or maybe the blonde girl-“

“Yachi.” Tsukishima corrects him, the tension around his eyes easing a little.

Tetsuro waves with his hand, returning to his position on the vanity. “Yeah, her, you always were complaining about Kageyama.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “Well, at least he cleans.” He takes a whiff of the coffee, sighing happily. “But he’s almost burned down the apartment at least four times. Miwa likes me because I haven’t ratted him out to his parents.”

“You did promise me a story.” Tetsuro tuts at him.

Tsukishima glares at him for a second before taking a sip of it with a pleased hum. “We were both coming to live in Sendai, it’s not much of a story.” He purses his lips. “Neither of our parents wanted us to be living alone, and as I said, he keeps the floors clean. Yamaguchi _would_ have been my first choice, but he’s living with his soulmate.”

“Oh, piercing guy?” Tetsuro asks. “From your last Nationals?”

Tsukishima shrugs. “Terushima” he takes a long drink of the coffee. “He’s studying to be a hairdresser, Tadashi has an undercut now.”

He can’t help it, Tetsuro laughs. “Was it intentional?”

There’s a glint to Tsukishima’s eye when he answers. “The undercut, yes, what brought on the undercut, nope.” He smiles over the rim of the coffee, Tetsuro wants to ask why he’s been so weird lately. But maybe it’s just him that’s being crazy.

Maybe Tsukishima’s just fine and Tetsuro is expecting a level of interest that’s not the usual coming from a friend. In the background, someone calls for Tsukishima to come to the set, the blond finishes the coffee in a rush and stands up walking right past Tetsuro, leaving the smell of something peachy in his wake.

Tetsuro watches him go for a second before he realizes he’s supposed to see this thing too. Tsukishima’s phone is still laid down, playing music on the vanity, he grabs it and quickly stops the music before rushing after the blond.

He discards the beginnings of the idea he was about to have. It’s no good.

.

.

Lately -meaning, as of two months ago, Kei has been hearing Kuroo’s voice in his head about as much as he did before he started taking the pills. It’s ridiculous and annoying. 

Besides, it’s only one sentence, one stupid sentence that Kuroo certainly did not mean in _that_ way. But Kei’s brain seems to have taken to it. Now every time he even thinks of the man, it’s there.

_Give yourself a chance._

Ugh.

It doesn’t help hat Kuroo has showed up like some sort of stalker -only not because this is his actual _job_ \- to watch him be humiliated while shooting some commercial. And he happens to be all suited up, and smirky, and singing around Kei.

This isn’t fair.

The way Kuroo looks at him, makes efforts to talk to him isn’t fucking fair. Kei could reach out, Kei could do something, he wants to -he's enough of an adult to admit to that- why can’t Kuroo just _not_ be his fucking soulmate? “-right, Tsukishima-kun?” The director is saying, Kei shakes his head, tries to shake it all off.

_Give yourself a chance._

“Uh, sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.” He rubs the back of his head. “It’s three short commercials, right?” He says, looking down.

“Yes.” The man studies his face. “It’s nothing weird, just a couple of scenes each. Right now we’re going to be shooting the one that’s supposed to fit the ‘afternoon’ theme. All you have to do is drink the coffee and say a couple of lines.”

Kei nods. “Alright, I can do that.” He says wondering what possessed him to not push for anyone else to do this stuff.

-Koganegawa would've been delighted-

Delighted, the director claps. “Alright then, I’ll explain the rest as we go.”

It really isn’t too hard. The people from the crew seem to be satisfied with Kei just staring at the camera and saying the lines in his usual deadpan tone hile frowning a little. “That’s good, very serious! Stoic.” Someone calls. “We’re done filming the closeups.”

Truly, Kei’s just acting the way he does when he gets his mid-afternoon coffee, minus the piles and piles of paperwork he has around him when at the museum -they were surprisingly understanding, gave him flexible hours on the condition he reorganized the archive-. He does think it’s somewhat dumb that they’re making him wear his uniform. But what’s he gonna do? He’s not uber-popular like Kageyama, people will typically not recognize him otherwise.

Then they go on to the breakfast coffee scene, and that’s when stuff gets a bit dicey. The director pulls a pretty girl with long hair, out of nowhere. She's probably two or three years younger than Kei and presents her to him. “Ami-chan is doing this opposite to you.” He says. “Just act natural, it’s supposed to look like a typical morning between a couple.”

“Alright,” Kei shakes her hand and tries not to grimace.

And the first couple of times it doesn’t go well. To her credit, she’s perfect at it, all smiles as she leans down to kiss his cheek and pours the coffee in his cup. Kei tries to do the same thing he did a little while ago, but it doesn’t seem to please everyone as much.

Maybe it’s the fact that they have him in this silly bathrobe – the kind that he’s sure only old men wear- it’s fluffy, light blue, and has a little frog on the left breast. The director calls him over and as he comes closer, Kei spots Kuroo sitting beside him, snickering a little.

_Give yourself a chance._

“Tsukishima-kun.” He stats gently. “I need you to be a little more expressive, so far, you look like you hate Ami-chan.”

Kei presses his lips together tightly. “Do you mean I should kiss her cheek too?” He asks, fingers tugging at each other. “I can do that.” Not that he has kissed many people, and most of his kisses have been with Kageyama of all people.

The director laughs. “No, no, that part is just fine. Just try to smile little when she kisses you, and when she sits down in front of you and you take her hand.” He stops to assess Kei for a second. “Do you have a soulmate, Tsukishima-kun? It might help you to think of them.”

The fact that he manages not to grimace or stiffen at the comment makes Kei feel just a little less annoyed at the world. He chances a look at Kuroo, who is frowning at the director, probably in Kei’s behalf. It feels nice for some reason. “No,” he responds icily. “I don’t have one. But I get what you want me to do, can we do it again?”

By this point, he only wants to go eat. It’s way past lunchtime, they are supposed to eat after this. With the way his stomach is starting to hurt Kei would kiss that girl in the mouth if it meant the whole thing would end sooner. Besides, that would mean Kuroo not being in his immediate vicinity and as such a lot less strain on Kei’s poor heart. 

He walks back to the set. And they start all over again. 

It’s only until the camera’s start rolling that he notices that Kuroo is now leaning on a column, somewhere a lot more visible from Kei’s spot in the faux table. “Here’s your morning coffee, dear.” He hears Mai say. “Just the way you like it.” And then she leans in to kiss his cheek, just as Kuroo sticks out his tongue like a fifth-grader.

Kei manages to contain the laughter, but his lips still twitch up a little. “Perfect!” Someone calls, probably the guy doing his close up. Kei’s busy glaring at Kuroo.

The same thing happens when they record the part where she sits across from him on the table and Kei reaches out to lace their fingers together, Kuroo stands in Kei's general line of sight and makes the most ridiculous face. It’s enough for Kei to smile a little, all while cursing him in his head.

Being sincere, the take is probably not that good, but the director calls it all off and Kei can get out of the old-man robe. It doesn’t really matter, the whole thing is like thirty seconds long. 

He eats in a corner with Miwa -and realizes that he probably left his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants-, who keeps needling him about Kuroo -she always has thought he and Kageyama should date, and that's definitely not going to happen-. Who has been dragged to the director's table and is looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. That suit must be hell to be in all day, halfway through the meal Kuroo gives up, he takes off the jacket and loosens his tie. Kei’s suddenly pretty glad that he could just show up here in sweatpants.

Finally, just as everyone's setting up for the ‘night’ themed shoot, and Miwa has finished touching up his makeup, Kuroo approaches. His hair more disheveled than before. Kei frowns at him “What was that?” he hisses.

“I was dying to have lunch.” Kuroo deadpans, poking Kei's cheek. “It worked, didn’t it?” The man smirks, hand moving down to lay on Kei’s shoulder. “How are you liking your team’s new merch?

He means, of course, the hoodie that Miwa spun out of some drawer and got on Kei before he could even protest. It’s bright green, just Kei’s size and with his number on the back. The hood has frog eyes and a small pink tongue. Kei dislikes it on principle, if only for the violent color, but he can’t deny that it’s comfortable. “You only get a pass because I was sick of sipping at that cold coffee.” Kei gables. “And I’m hot, it’s summer, why am I even wearing this?”

Kuroo rolls his eyes at him. “You're grateful and you know it. Besides, you were scaring Mai-chan with your annoyed face.” He tugs at the shoulder of the Hoodie. “I think it’s cute, besides, the line just came out.”

“I wasn't scaring her.” Kei protests, though the girl did look a bit put off for a minute there. “Couldn't you get one of my teammates to wear it?”

“You were.” Kuroo huffs. “And they _are_ going to be wearing them, you all have a photoshoot next week. Didn’t your coach tell you?” There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes, probably because Kei must be looking like he’s given up on existing, he can only imagine what other merch might exist for the Frogs.

He stands up, and, since Kuroo is sitting on the vanity, now Kei’s towering over him, if just a little. “Kyoutani might kill you for trying to get him in this, and I might let him.”

“Aw, you know you wouldn’t Tsukki.” Kuroo singsongs, gazing softly at Kei's face. “You like me too much.”

Standing up was a bad choice, now Kuroo is too close, Kei presses his lips together until he’s sure they’ve gone white and he has messed up Miwa’s subtle lipstick -and she already got mad at him for doing that earlier-. “You’re indirectly responsible for all of this, I have plenty of reason to let you get mauled.”

Then Kuroo has the gall to laugh, throwing his head back, the tanned skin of his neck stretching over his Adam’s apple, cutting off harshly where the popped-open collar of his white shirt starts. He’s wearing a slightly darker red tie, more burgundy than scarlet and Kei wants to tug at it. “Hey, I told you to _give yourself a chance_. _You_ signed up for the endorsements.”

It feels like a punch in the gut, like when Kuroo started singing in the morning. Keii almost goes back to his old habit of kissing the other when he’s been struck speechless. But he’s an _adult_ and there are a bunch of _people_ around. He can’t let himself go down that path.

_Give yourself a chance._

Kei turns on his heel and goes off to the set. Maybe if they see he’s ready this cal all wrap up soon.

.

.

Tsukishima is wearing white shorts and that ridiculous hoodie. He’s curled up in a dark grey sofa, with a cup of coffee in his hand and a book of his lap.

_Fuck._

Tetsuro is sure that he must not be the only one whos affected by the way those legs are folded on the soft-looking sofa -although he hopes he's the only one feeling a disarming need to crawl on the sofa, even if it makes Tsukishima set his angry teammate on him-. Hell, this whole photoshoot thing was a mistake. Him coming to it, at least, he won’t be surprised if the sales of this coffee band skyrocket after the campaign goes out.

Which s good, but right now it’s also inconsequential. He’s spent all this time telling himself he wouldn’t fall again, turns out he never got up in the first place.

Mercifully, that particular segment doesn’t have any dialogue, so it takes very little time for the crew to shoot Tsukishima looking all cozy and comfortable on the couch before they call it and the blond moodily stalks off to wash his face.

Tetsuro just watches, the warm thing that blew up in his chest while watching the filing immediately deflating. 

This is all a chore to the blond.

The first thing Tsukishima does after washing his face is taking off the hoodie and stalking over to where Tetsuro is sitting with the director and Miwa Kageyama to hand it over. “Oh, no, Tsukishima-kun that’s for you.” The director says kindly. “We got one with your number just so you could take him home. We'll send you a little gift on behalf of the brand too, should get to you in the mail in a couple of days.”

Tsukishima grimaces, he looks down at the house. “Uh- alright-“ he looks up, a polite smile plastered to his face. “Thank you, it’s nice of you. I’ll be heading out then?”

“Alright, Tsukishima-kun.” The man says, holding out his hand. “It was a pleasure to work with you.”

“Likewise.” The blond states, shaking the offered hand. Then he looks at Tetsuro. “Kuroo-san.” He nods. 

And Tetsuro can’t help it. “I’ll be leaving too, actually. I can give you a ride if you want.” He says, and as soon as the blond nods, hurries to say his goodbyes while Tsukishima exchanges some sort of awkward half-hug with Miwa.

Once they’re out of earshot, Tetsuro turns to look at the blond. “If you don’t want the hoodie I'll gladly take it off your hands.” He says. “I’m a fan after all.”

Tsukishima sputters, blood rising to his face adorably before he shoves the garment in Tetsuro’s direction. “You can have it if you stop saying embarrassing things.” He grumbles, sticking his hands deep in the pockets of his sweatpants. A frown takes over the blond’s face. “Ugh, I think I left my phone somewhere.”

Tetsuro laughs. “Took you long enough to notice.” He pulls out the phone from the back pocket of his pants. “You left it on the vanity in the morning.” He says, taking in the grateful look he gets from Tsukishima before he pulls the Frog hoodie over his head. “Now, I was promised selfies and I _do_ need them.” He grins at Tsukishima.

The blond stares, stunned for a second before he begins laughing. “Green isn’t your color.” 

“It totally is!” Tetsuro protests. 

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, but he lets himself be tugged closer so that Tetsuro has a decent angle for the selfie. It's a bit ridiculous and he did mess his hair up even more than usual when he put on the garment. But the photo ends up decent.

They take a couple more before he nudges Tsukishima with his elbow. “I meant it about the ride.” He says. “You won’t have to walk in this heat.” The blond tares at him for a too-long moment. Those golden eyes seem conflicted and his hands are all tangled up and tugging at each other. “C’mon Tsukki.”

They’re already at the building's entrance, and though it’s late afternoon the sun really is beating down hard. Something in Tsukishima’s head seems to snap, he looks away. “I wouldn't mind grabbing something cold.” He says, so low that it’s almost inaudible.

It takes a moment for it to sink in on Tetsuro. “Are you asking me out Tsukki?”

The blond frowns, a hint of pink to his cheeks. “It is horribly hot,” he says, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. “Something cold might be nice, is all I was saying.”

“Really?” Tetsuro smirks, god, he’s probably hallucinating from the heat of wearing this hoodie in this heat. “’Cause if you wait for me to slip into something that’s not a suit, I might come with you.”

“That would be acceptable.” Tsukishima looks down, more flustered now. “If you have nothing else to do…”

“Other than going home and watching Netflix, no.” Tetsuro swings an arm around the blond’s shoulders. “But you’re the one who knows this city, so you'll have to pick the place.”

There is a small, grateful smile on Tsukishima’s face when he looks up to meet Tetsuro’s eyes. “I can do that.” He says, and it makes Tetsuro’s belly do flips. Hell, if Tsukishima had asked him to go get extra spicy tacos or hot chocolate, even in this heat, he would’ve said yes.

He leads the other to his car, arm still around his shoulders, and it feels so right, it makes Tetsuro worry a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, what'd ya think? I did say this wouldn't be all angst, and we're shaping up to that one art in the story.  
> Also, I want that hoodie.  
> I always love your comments, they make me smile.
> 
> Love, Kyrye.


	5. Watch you (breathe in)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama is all of us in this one, also Kei snaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This week has been crazy for me, so this is a little late. I do love this chapter, one scene especially is probably in my top five of things I've written.   
> You're all so supportive I could die! Thank you!  
> The [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1wwB4Z4Wdm5nNWLArfKOg0?i=UhT78xSQSIGB73tapYLGPw) is still being updated, so check it out.

There should be pills to block out random bursts of courage, like the ones for soulmate voices.

Although knowing pills as he does now, Kei is pretty sure they would have horrid side effects-they'd probably even be likely to cause some organ failure or something, like what happened with his mom-, he still remembers the first two weeks of the soulmate pills and how he almost, _almost_ stopped taking them.

Funnily enough, it was Kageyama that stopped him.

And Kuroo, because he still was talking to Kuroo back then.

Even if such pills did exist and he tolerated them, he figures it would be too late for him, as he's sitting on the passenger seat of Kuroo's car. It's not an expensive car, but it's well cared for and clean, Kei has no idea why he was expecting the messiness that comes closer to the way Kageyama's car always looks -there's always at least a pair of gym shorts on the floor-. Instead, the leather of the seats is smooth and clean, and the surfaces seem to have been wiped down.

It smells a little like cinnamon, so does Kuroo, who slips into the passenger seat in black sweatpants and a tight, white v-neck with a logo that Kei doesn't recognize.

Kei hates himself a little for staring, but at least, Kuroo is too busy throwing his head back and groaning. "Man I hate suits." he huffs, stretching his muscled arms behind his head. "In summer, at least, they suck." He turns to look at Kei, suddenly looking three years younger and just as desirable in a very different way.

All Kei can do is purse his lips and be grateful that it is broiling outside and Kuroo can't put on the Frogs hoodie. He clears his throat. "You hide it well."

Kuroo smirks wider. "I kinda have to." He reaches forward and starts the car, pulling out of the studio's parking lot. "Well, point the way Tsukki, I really do only know how to go from my apartment to the office in this city. I had to use the GPS to get here today."

Kei rolls his eyes at him. "I guess, there's a nice place not too far off." He hums. "It's still gonna take a while to get there with this hour's traffic." 

"I don't have to video call Kenma until after ten." Kuroo shrugs, eyes on the road as he reaches forward to turn on the stereo. "I'm game if you are."

It's a little sad, and Kei refrains from saying anything about it. Kuroo should be used to it, he did spend about a year and a half living in Korea. But still, Kei has always been somewhere he had the option to just drop by someone else's. Not that he ever takes it but still. "Uh- Can I?" He says, pointing at the stereo. "Take a left on the next street."

The older man's face softens, he smiles a little. "Go ahead, you're already kind of my personal Dj." They pull up to a red light and he turns to look a Kei. "So, what kind of cold thing are we having? It is a Wednesday, you know?"

"I have early practice tomorrow." Kei huffs, looking over his playlists, trying to find a song that doesn't make him all paranoid. For some reason, everything feels too telling with Kuroo sitting beside him. "We're going for Ice cream, you heathen, though I guess they might have beer, if you want that. They have low sugar flavors too."

Kuroo laughs. "Aww Tsukki, I'm touched-" He brings one of his hands to his chest. "-you remembered."

"It's not like it's something rare," Kei says, looking away, fixing his gaze on the license plate of the car in front of them as the song he has chosen starts playing. At least he can say it's from a movie, somehow everything else felt either too teen-boppy or way too telling of Kei's feelings, and neither felt decent to put on as they head for something that feels way too much like a date.

_I'm falling_

_In all the good times I find myself_

_Longin' for change_

_And in the bad times I fear myself_

The dark-haired man hums. "You do have a terrifying tolerance for sugar." He says, fingers tapping at the leather of the steering wheel. 

Outside, it's getting dark and at some point, they just roll down the windows and turn off the AC, letting the lukewarm air in. Kei leans on the door and looks at Kuroo when he knows the other won't notice, it's comfortable, this quiet.

.

.

This wasn't quite what he expected.

Not that he expected anything, really. The second the guy he’s liked to some or other degree for the- good _lord-_ past _seven_ years alluded to wanting to spend any sort of extra time with him, his brain short-circuited.

Even on the drive here, he could barely manage to sound like himself. 

He mostly stayed quiet singing along to the music coming from the stereo softly. Asking the blond if this is a date definitely would have scared him away.

But it _is_ a date, right?

They’re sitting in a little wooden booth, opposite to each other, and Tsukishima let the semi-transparent curtain fall closed as soon as the waitress came over here with their orders. So it’s only them, and the ice cream.

And that stupid voice in the back of Tetsuro’s head that keeps telling him to reach out and grab the blond’s hand where it’s laid facing upwards beside his ice cream. 

Which, of course, he’s not going to do, no matter how nice it’d probably be to brush his fingertips over the taut skin of the other’s palms and forearms, it looks soft.

Tsukishima shoves a spoonful of that pink ice cream -Tetsuro didn't get the name of the flavor, something to do with berries, he was preoccupied with freaking out- into his mouth, bending his free hand at the elbow to lean on it, eyes directed out of the window, at the busy street below them. Tetsuro needs to say something, anything, or he’s going to blow up. “I think you’re gonna keep getting the campaigns.”

The blond’s head snaps back, amber eyes meeting Tetsuro’s. “What?”

“The campaigns,” Tetsuro repeats. “It looked like they really liked you today.”

Tsukishima scoffs, taking another spoonful of ice cream and whipped cream that hovers for a second by his mouth. “I’m pretty sure they got over me when I couldn’t do any mushy emotions and stuff,” he answers, and only then does he put the ice cream inside his mouth.

Tetsuro sips at his iced tea, munching on the tapioca that comes up thoughtfully. “Meh, that’s like half of it anyways.” He leans forward on his elbows, studying Tsukishima’s face. “Lately they’re on a roll about stuff like that. Did you know there's a guy from this prefecture playing in Argentina? They have him modeling too, and I hear everyone's going crazy for him over there.”

For a second, Tsukishima stiffens, then he smirks maliciously. “That’s because Oikawa is a show-off, and he’s also a pain in the ass,” He says. “You’re not comparing me to him now, are you?”

“Oh ho? So, you know him?” Tetsuro asks, eyebrows rising. “For the record, you’re at least as pretty as he is.”

The blond flushes and Tetsuro can tell it’s up to his ears even with the lowlights. The blush comes all the way up from his chest and he wonders…. No, bad Tetsuro, _bad_. “I do, yes, he was a third year when I was in first. Went to middle school with Kageyama. Was generally insufferable.” He takes a large spoonful of ice cream and jams it to the side of his mouth. “And thanks for whatever that was, but I still wouldn’t want to do it.”

“He was in my year? How did I never-“ Tetsuro hums. “I guess it was hard to do anything with both Ushiwaka and you guys around. But I mean it, apparently, they had to limit the modeling to certain times of the year or something, or it was eating into his volleyball time. And I _know_ that-“ he shoots the blond a narrow-eyed look. “-I’ve known your ‘notoriously closed off'-” he grins, making air quotes with his fingers. “Self for seven years, Tsukki. Though that’s not gonna deter your fan clubs.”

A laugh escapes the blond’s throat. “Ok, now you’re exaggerating.” He rolls his eyes. “There’s no way I-“ His lower lip curls downwards into a grimace. “Do I?”

It’s cute, it’s like Tsukishima doesn’t know he’s attractive. Or that people often obsess over athletes, whatever, Tetsuro feels a teasing grin take over his face. “Oh you do, we do data analysis, you know? For promotion and stuff-“ the blond’s face is twisting further and further each second, and Tetsuro almost giggles. As much as he feels conflicted about Tsukishima it’s never not fun to see him squirm. “You were in the top three most liked in V2, and now you’re climbing pretty quick since those pictures showed up.”

“What pictures?” Tsukishima asks before it dawns on him. “Oh, those? I still have no idea why people make such a fuss over them. We ran out of food, it happens.” And then he looks down at his hands like he's feeling a little bit guilty, like he's somehow not telling the whole truth. “I mean, it’s Volleyball, we’re not supposed to be that recognizable.”

He’s talking, of course about the photos that turned up in one of those gossip sites a couple of weeks ago -secret affair? Tsukishima and Kageyama's midnight grocery run' the headline read-. Tetsuro shrugs. “I agree there’s nothing special about them.” In the pictures Tsukishima and Kageyama are on a -clearly- late grocery run, that’s all, the only ones where they’re actually in any kind of contact Tsukishima is flicking Kageyama on the temple. “I think it’s because you were both in pajamas, his have volleyballs. It's ridiculously cute.”

The blond leans forward further, shoulders sagging. “Still, it’s stupid.” He sighs, then those eyes, which have been staring out of the window for a couple of seconds go back to Tetsuro’s face. “I don’t regret that I decided to keep playing.” He says quietly. “ But I’m not exactly happy about that part.”

There’s a beat, a second where Tetsuro is just looking at him and the greenish tint that bathes his face from a sign outside, then he realizes he’s been sipping at an empty glass for a bit and Tsukishima’s gaze has turned slightly mocking. “Tired Kuroo?”

Tetsuro coughs, sputters a little, notices that a drop of the green liquid has ended up on his shirt, and frowns at it. “Not at all.” Two can play at that though. “You're just _reaaaally_ photogenic.” He drawls.

And then it’s Tsukishima’s time to choke on his ice cream, which gives Tetsuro some time to compose himself.

.

.

They walk around for a little, it’s not even fully dark yet, and this part of the city is pretty popular. The lukewarm air of the summer night feels good on Kei’s skin, especially with the fact that all he did at the ice cream place was blush. 

Kuroo is walking beside him, eyes scrutinizing the places they walk past. His hands have been shoved deep in his pockets and he’s leaning back a little with an air of wonder that has no business looking this adorable in a twenty-five-year-old.

Kei chomps down on his bottom lip to keep the words from escaping, he knows he should’ve told Kuroo a long time ago, that the only reason it’s so hard to think of doing it now is precisely that he didn’t man up when it would have been perfectly acceptable, if only slightly embarrassing.

So he feels dishonest, and a little like he’s manipulating Kuroo because he doesn’t want to deal with the fallout for his cowardice. After all, even if Kei is right -and he _is_ , he knows because there’s only so far he can be dense before noticing how Kuroo’s eyes follow his lips-, the fact remains that he has been lying for a long, long while, and maybe if he finds out Kuroo will simply decide he doesn’t want anything to do with Kei.

-and that may not sound like the older man, but Kei doesn’t want to give him the chance to prove his suppositions wrong-

The thing is, that apart from the very annoying music thing, soulmates are supposed to understand each other, and be drawn to each other. And Kei is just now realizing that he pills have no way of interfering with that.

He’s an adult, he can admit to himself that, at the very least, he’s attracted to Kuroo.

And at worst...

“You still have that bad habit of biting your lip.” Kuroo is looking at him, hazel eyes glinting. “What are you thinking so hard about Tsukki?”

They're walking along the outer edge of a little park now, further in there are benches, filled with couples at this hour even though it’s a weekday. For a second, looking at these people, Kei almost tells him, he knows he’d feel lighter, he knows it would be a huge fucking weight off his back.

But then Kuroo grins and Kei bites his lip harder. “Nothing,” he lies, “Just trying to remember if I need to get permission at work for our next game.”

Kuroo bristles. “Isn’t it on a Sunday?” he hums. “Yeah, the seventeenth-“ he cuts himself off when he catches Kei’s gaze. He actually knows when his games are? Off the top of his head, no less.

Kei gives him a sardonic smirk, that only isn't shaky because it’s his most usual expression aside from bored. “It is, but since I’m working weird hours for the archive thing-“ He narrows his eyes at Kuroo, a little too smug when the other’s cheeks darken. “Do you know all the match schedules Kuroo-san?” he teases.

The older man scoffs, his left eyebrow rising in an impossibly perfect arch. “Why, I have an _excellent_ memory, Tsukki.” He leans in a little, face coming way too close to Kei’s shoulder for his comfort. “Although I do have to pay more attention to yours from now on, I have merch to wear to them, after all. I might even get the rest of the collection”

Just like that, he turns the tables on Kei _just like that._ A shiver rushes up his spine and he’s been holding his breath for god knows how long, probably as long as he has been holding Kuroo’s gaze. And god, Kei really can’t be sure how he hasn’t passed out.

The thing is, he likes this, he likes that Kuroo sees him for himself and not because some random people twenty-years ago decided that the voices dictated prime romantic compatibility and not something else. He likes that Kuroo has that face right now because of Kei himself. And he, he likes Kuroo for who he is too.

“I’m pretending I don’t know you if you wear that to an actual match.” He grumbles, looking away and ignoring how his literal ears burn.

“Oh, so the frog hat is out too?” Kuroo snarks, and then laughs that deep, obnoxious laugh that makes the hairs on Kei’s arms stand on end like it’s a lot colder out here. “Don’t tempt me Tsukki, I can recruit your high school friends.”

_That_ makes Kei whip his head to Kuroo again, eyes wide and incredulous. “You wouldn't.” he hisses.

“Oh, I _would.”_ Kuroo’s smirk widens even more. “I ran into Sawamura the other day. I bet I could organize a whole line of green hoodies for you-“ He claps a hand over Kei’s shoulder. “-it could be a reunion thing.”

They’re standing In front of an intersection now, about to cross the street away from the park. Kei tries to walk faster after giving Kuroo a withering look, but the pedestrian stoplight switches to red and he’s left standing at the edge of the sidewalk, lips pursed, glaring at Kuroo who has begun laughing like a hyena at some point.

Stupid Kuroo and his stupid taunts, and his stupid hair.

Stupid Kei for actually feeling a little warm when he mentioned going to his games. 

Stupid soulmate phenomena.

Kuroo stops laughing, eyes softening. The restaurant just across the street is a monstrosity with a gigantic neon purple sign that makes Kei feel dizzy with how it maps out the planes of the older man’s face. “C’mon now Tsukki,” Kuroo says, reaching out for Kei, thumb coming to brush over his lower lip which is currently trapped tight between his teeth. “Don’t pout like that, you’ll hurt yourself.”

And just like that, Kei relaxes, lets his lip go and his mouth falls open a little. It feels like he’s drunk, or out of his mind, or something. “Why do you care so much-“ it comes out shaky, not at all how it _should_ sound. “-it’s just a split lip.”

Kuroo doesn’t seem to expect the whole thing either, he looks at Kei for a little while in disbelief, the thumb on his chin a steady pressure. People are walking around them, Kei registers that the stoplight has changed colors, but Kuroo steps a little closer, he breathes out, shaky. “I just do.” He says, leaning in.

Kei’s eyelids flutter, a second away from staying closed, letting it all go however it’s going to. But it’s all always hanging over him, the lie, the fact that he has gotten himself into a situation where no matter what he does, he loses. 

And Kuroo notices, of course, he does. The dark-haired man pulls away hastily, eyes avoiding Kei altogether. “Don’t tense up like that Tsukki.” He all but whimpers. “It’s fine.” Kei just stares at him, frozen and realizes that his shoulders physically hurt, so does his back from the way he’s clenching them. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.”

He looks up, the stoplight is green. “Alright.”

.

.

**_FROM: ME- 22:01_ **

_Hey Tsukki._

_I got home._

_Sorry if I upset you today._

_You looked a bit upset, I mean, I’m not telling you how you feel or anything._

_I didn’t mean to anyways._

_I liked getting ice cream with you, though!_

_If you want we could do it again?_

_I don’t know this city, like at all though, you’ve been a good guide so far._

_So, uh yeah._

.

.

“I think I read it all wrong Bo-“ Tetsuro whines into the microphone of the fancy headset that Kenma gave him for Christmas. “-I mean I was _so_ sure, and then he tensed up like- like I was about to punch him or something.” He sighs.

On the screen, Bokuto has an expression on his face that’s equal parts confused and concerned. “Really, you think so?” He asks. “Like, for all you know he had a cramp or something-“

It’s well past midnight now, and after Kenma just shrugged and asked Tetsuro why he was asking _him_ when it was Tsukishima that he ought to be talking to, he decided to try his luck with Bokuto. The Owl has a decent grasp on stuff like this, at least, and Tetsuro really needs something other than to be told to _talk_ to Tsukishima. He knows that already, but it’s not easy, especially with the blond being how he is.

“Well, not- not exactly like that.” Tetsuro lifts his hands in an exasperated gesture. “Of course, but he looked hurt, which makes no sense, right?” He bites the inside of his cheek. “I hadn’t even done anything.”

Bokuto seems to thing for a moment, blowing a stray strand of hair off his face -it’s down, for once and he really has to get his roots done-. “I think you’re-“

But then another voice interrupts, serene and serious at the same time. Akaashi’s head appears on the screen, and he proceeds to cuddle up to Bokuto’s chest. “Have you thought about the place, maybe?” He offers. “You _were_ in a crowded intersection, Tsukishima isn’t as relaxed as you are Kuroo.” He chastises. 

He mulls over it for a second before answering. “I guess, that may be it, too.” He concedes. “I texted him when I got home, but he hasn’t answered, what if I fucked it all up Akaashi?” he asks letting his body fall to the side dramatically.

Akaashi chuckles. “Well, _we_ don’t have any way of knowing.” He says, brushing his nose over the edge of Bokuto's jaw.

“I still think you should consider he may have had a cramp, or indigestion, or something.” Bokuto pipes in. “He asked you out, bro… You should’ve taken the chance, maybe that’s just how he looks when he’s startled.”

Tetsuro laughs, it’s not probable, but if Bokuto is right… God that would be a funny story to tell. “Not likely.” He grumbles, nose wrinkling. “I dunno Bo.” Tetsuro says, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to hurt. “besides, he’s living with Kageyama, and I’ sure they had some sort of thing back in high school, maybe the one seeing things that aren't there.”

Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot up. “He is? WAIT, WHY DIDN’T YOU LEAD WITH THAT?! How long have you known?”

Has he really not told him? It is true that the contact with his Tokyo friends through the last few months has been a bit strained, but he talks to Bokuto fairly often -even more than he talks to Kenma, sometimes. Although seeing as Kenma is enjoying having his boyfriend within train ride distance, and they’re still in that happy, my-babe-can-do-no-wrong period, Tetsuro can’t blame him for being a little distant these past few months-. He frowns. “Yeah, since like, last time I saw him. I told you, Bo!”

Bokuto shakes his head. “Nuh-uh, you didn’t, right Akaashi?”

“I don’t remember you mentioning it, no.” Akaashi murmurs sleepily. “But maybe that day we were all drunk. I am not sure.”

Tetsuro throws his hands up, exasperated. “Well, he is, and Kageyama’s sister calls him _family_ , and-“

Bokuto stops him with a hand raised, palm to the front, Surprisingly composed. “Bro, _we_ call each other family.” He purses his lips. “And I don’t think he’s like-“ he gestures with his hands. “-the kinda guy to just ask someone else out. I mean, rent isn’t cheap, and he got to live with someone he knew wasn’t a serial killer.” Bokuto yawns. “I know you’re all cautious cuz of soulmates and stuff, but Tsukki’s all skeptic like you.” He yawns again. “Maybe get out of your head a little!”

Tetsuro can’t help the laugh that makes it’s way up his throat. Bokuto is ever the optimist, which is sweet, even though he’s starting not to make much sense, it is late, after all. And he has been yawning a lot these past few minutes. He shoots a look at Akaashi, who seems to be dozing off where his head is laid on Bokuto’s chest. “I‘ve kept you guys up for too long, haven’t I?”

All that gets from Akaashi is some sort of little, affectionate groan and him burying his nose into Bokuto’s chest. The Owl smiles down softly at his soulmate. “He’s had a pretty heavy week.” He tries to whisper, which, being Bokuto means talking at a normal volume. “And it’s only Thursday.”

“Mmm, jus’ talk to Tsukishima.” Akaashi mumbles, muffled by Bokuto's chest.

“I agree, Bro, he likes you.”

Tetsuro shakes his head, feeling a little envious for a second, ever since Bokuto transferred to a Tokyo-based team back in February they’ve been the definition of bliss, and he’s happy for them but at the same time, there’s a sort of longing that fills him when seeing them. “I can try.” He says finally. “I mean, he might sic Kyoutani on me, so if I’m found mauled…”

Bokuto laughs, booming and happy, making Akaashi peek up at him in annoyance. “Oh, sorry ‘kaashi.” He grins down at the other, placing a short kiss to the crown of his head. “Talk to you, tomorrow Bro?”

Tetsuro nods. “Sleep well, Bo. You too Akaashi.” He says, right before the screen goes dark and he’s left to his thoughts and the insidious dark of his one-bedroom apartment.

.

.

**_FROM: TSUKKI-05:37_ **

_I’m fine, don’t worry._

_See you at the next shoot, I guess?_

_I do know other good places_

_**this message has been deleted**_

_**this message has been deleted**_

_I wouldn’t mind either._

.

.

You don't live with someone for four years for nothing. 

Kei knows that he's freaking Kageyama out, it doesn't stop him, though.

He's sulking, he knows he's sulking. And he knows that he's so far ahead on his work for the museum archive that he's going to end up stuck with a lot of free time at the end of next month. The museum people weren't being too nice, it seems that they just liked to look nice by having a Pro athlete working there, to parade around when important people -or their kids- come around.

So he really doesn't have that much work, even if he has spread it evenly.

And his ankle has been hurting, tch.

Anyways, Kageyama- Kageyama has clearly had enough of Kei's sulking though he hasn't done anything to the setter and frankly, it's none of his business. Still, on a Friday night, two weeks after The-Almost-Whatever-It-Was with Kuroo, Kei finds himself threatened into the couch -Kageyama has pictures that no one should ever see- a bottle of red wine shoved into his hand.

He frowns up at Kageyama and his identical bottle. "Red wine gives me headaches, and don't you have practice tomorrow?"

"I know." Kageyama flops down on the couch, opposite to him. "And no."

Kei takes a swig of his wine. "Why is that? Do the other players need a break from your commands king?" The nickname has never gone away, it does piss Kageyama off, but Kei's dreading the fact that Kageyama is concerned enough to do this. 

A strange look falls over Kageyama's face but it's gone in a second. "Oh, shut up. You're not going to distract me Tsukishima."

"A fly can distract you," Kei grumbles, looking away. Well, that's not going to work. "What's this about?"

Kageyama glares at him, fingers tightening around the base of his ow bottle. He looks Kei straight in the eye. "You know what it's about If you fuck up your ankle on my watch auntie will kill me."

"My mom wouldn't kill a fly." Kei grumbles, he takes another drink, grimacing. "The team doctor's having me do physio and stuff, and I got a brace for when I'm at home. My ankle is fine."

"You're not wearing it right now." He points out."And sure, the ankle is fine." Kageyama mumbles. "And you fucked Kuroo."

Kei happened to be taking a sip of wine, on which he chokes, starting the worst coughing fit of his life, he's almost sure he's going to puke. Kageyama, to his credit, gives him a couple of halfhearted pats in the back while scowling. Kei manages to recover only enough to give him his meanest look. "Please tell me you're not on drugs _your_ mom will kill me. I did what now?"

Kageyama rolls his eyes at him in a way that Kei knows the setter picked up from him and because of that it's all the more irritating. "You fucked Kuroo," he says, voice deadpan. "Two weeks ago." he continues. "Ew, you have wine coming out of your nose."

"Well, whose fault is it?" Kei barks, wiping at his nose furiously. "And I did not sleep with Kuroo, what the hell? What gave you that idea?"

"You know what!" Kageyama hisses. "And if it's not that then what? Did you tell-"

Kei cuts him off with a long, drawn-out huff. He hasn't told him, and the reason is that it's fucking stupid. He feels like he's fifteen again, oh god. "I didn't tell him." he huffs. "He almost kissed me and I froze, that's all-"

For a few seconds, the room is quiet. Kageyama just blinks at him. "What are you, twelve?" he says, laughing and taking a swig from the bottle. "Is he mad about it or something?"

Looking away, Kei shakes his head. "No, he's being like, creepily nice." He pauses to think for a second. "Like he hurt me for _not_ kissing me or something."

And it’s true, all Kei has gotten from Kuroo in the past week and a half has been praise and random pictures. It’s like he’s afraid of going past some point, lest Kei breaks, or ends up hating him.

Which is absolutely infuriating.

And he has never been closer to not taking his soulmate pills, not even that first week when he was sure he’d die of dehydration. Because like this, Kuroo is unreadable, even at the shoot with his whole team he kept a respectable distance and stood there with that salesman smile, barely looking at Kei at all.

He would give anything to know what the other's thinking. Though it’s probably that it was a mistake to go out with Kei, or try to kiss him, or whatever that was.

"Well, did he?" Kageyama's face is already a little red, he still takes another drink, fucking lightweight.

Though Kei isn't that much better off, he's feeling a little woozy and he can't feel his cheeks when he bites them. "He didn't!" Kei scoffs. "I wanted to tell him, I need to tell him-" Of course, he _could_ tell Kuroo, physically nothing is stopping him.

Kageyama nods in a way that makes him look a lot sager than he is. "Wouldn't hurt-"

"And then he's going to hate me for being a butt and I'll be right where I started-" Kei continues stubbornly. Even if Kuroo is a phone call away, he’s also a whole lot of courage and acceptance that Kei _doesn’t_ have away.

Silence hangs between them for a few seconds. "Well, that might happen." Kageyama finally answers, bluntly. He knows better than anyone.

Kei turns around, buries his head on a pillow, and maybe, maybe screams a little.

He then goes down to his bottle of wine and wakes up to Kageyama in his bed. So it seems, as much as he's agonizing over it, nothing much has changed.

.

.

Maybe when Tsukishima said he’d be miffed if Tetsuro showed up to one of his games with the hoodie, he wasn’t exaggerating. After all, if looks could kill, Tetsuro would be a splatter of blood on the stands behind him by now, and maybe a stray ear on the floor.

But he _likes_ the hoodie and Tsukki has been a bit of an ass this past week, so the blond can suck it up. Besides, the arena AC is potent, Tetsuro might be shivering if he’d stayed in the suit jacket.

He’s not even sure why he’s here, there are no JVA reasons for him to be, and Tsukishima definitely didn’t invite him. In fact, his exact words were that he doesn’t look at the stands much during the game and Tetsuro could do whatever he wanted.

That’s as good as ‘don’t come’ right?

Well, Tsukishima is definitely looking at the stands now, amber eyes narrowed, lips curled into a pout. He looks good in his uniform, as always, he looks good in anything. Tetsuro finds himself looking at him more than at the actual game. He’s even a little surprised when the Frogs win 2-0. They really are on a roll.

And then comes the dilemma, should he even seek Tsukishima out? Lately, the more Tetsuro has tried to not be obnoxious, the more the blond seems to close up. In a way it feels like they’re drifting apart again, only this time ti’s happening much more forcefully than when Tetsuro was in Korea.

Still, he wants to see the blond. Quickly, Tetsuro takes off the hoodie and drapes it over his arm. Maybe just a quick hello and he can see where they go from there. 

His JVA ID grants him passage down to the changing room. It’ll probably take a while, so Tetsuro leans back against the wall and waits. There’s someone else with him, some guy with light brown hair and a pretty face, _he_ is wearing one of the hoodies.

Tetsuro lifts his chin at the other. “Who are you waiting for?” he asks. “I’m Kuroo, by the way.”

The man studies him with pretty, narrowed brown eyes. “Yahaba.” He says, finally. “You’re from the association, right? I've seen you around.”

He’s sharp, this one, and apparently not too pleased with the small talks. “Yeah-“ Tetsuro says, trying to make his face as friendly as it can’t be. “I’m not here on business, though, just congratulating a friend.”

Yahaba takes another second to look over his face. “Oh, I see.” He says. “Well, that’s good because I’m parched and you guys always take a long time making announcements and stuff. I’m waiting for my soulmate, by the way, he’s on the team.”

He doesn’t offer a name, but that’s exactly when -apparently- said soulmate slinks out of the changing rooms, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his white sweatpants. Yahaba’s eyes light up a little, he nods at Tetsuro as he steps forward, pulling the other into a hug that looks pretty one-sided. 

Though, looking more closely, Kyoutani does lean into the other’s thinner form. He actually buries his nose in the crook of Yahaba’s neck and takes a deep breath, and his posture relaxes, though his glare doesn’t. Tetsuro looks away, it’s not that he isn’t used to seeing soulmates, they’re freaking everywhere, but somehow that display of trust is a bit much for him.

A couple other people come out to loiter in the corridor before Tsukishima finally appears, fresh from a shower and looking a little tired. Tetsuro’s heart decides to do that thing where it feels like Bokuto is squeezing it in his chest, and he sands slack-jawed for a second before he finally gathers himself enough to step towards the blond. “Good game, Tsukki.” He says and Tsukishima turns hi eyes to Tetsuro. “You’ve surpassed me, my little disciple,” Tetsuro says, grinning and wiping away an imaginary tear.

Tsukishima smiles, tight lipped, and way too serious. “Thanks,” his eyes shoot down to the hoodie hanging off of Tetsuro’s arm. For a second, he almost looks disappointed. “I can’t believe you actually wore that thing.”

Tetsuro shrugs. “Yeah, well, it’s comfy.”

Tsukishima bites his lip, again, and his eyes search Tetsuro’s face. “I guess if someone likes it—” he trails off. “Anyway-“ he presses his lips tight together. “-It was nice of you to come, or are you here on business?”

Tetsuro clears his throat, looking down, the back of his throat burns, and his chest feels somehow too big for his shirt even though it fit perfectly in the short meeting he had this morning. “I told you, I’m a fan.”

At that, Tsukishima smiles like he can’t help int, with a little wrinkle at the top of his nose that Tetsuro wants to kiss, it’s almost perfect. Most, because of the next thing that happens. Tsukishima looks over Tetsuro’s shoulder and a conflicted expression fills his face.

Tetsuro turns around too.

Kageyama Tobio, is, like his sister, quite a pretty person. Of course, he’s over six feet tall and built like a professional athlete, but Tetsuro can’t focus on that when the setter walks over to them and stands beside Tsukishima, he can only think that they make a pretty picture, these two pretty people and-

“Oh, Kageyama-kun!” Someone calls from the changing room. The tall, blond setter shoots to to ruffle Kageyama's hair. “You’re joining us for drinks today, right?” he calls before his eyes land on Tetsuro. “Oh, Kuroo-san, hello!” He says, taking a step forward and offering Kuroo his hand. “What are you doing here?”

All Tetsuro can do is shrug and try to grin at Koganegawa. “Just watching, don't worry.” He says, lifting his arm with the hoodie. “I like your team, and we get seats to any game in the association.” He shrugs. “It would be a shame not to come get a look when I’m this close.”

“Ah, I see-“ Koganegawa’s eyes drift to the side. “You’re Tsukishima’s friend too, right?” he asks. “I've seen you around a lot. Are you going with us for drinks again? You’re pretty fun to hang around.”

Tetsuro’s eyes follow the setters, in the confusion, Tsukishima has retreated a couple of steps. He and Kageyama are talking to each other in hushed tones, a look of annoyance on the setter’s face, whose eyes dart towards Kuroo every few seconds. 

Meanwhile, Tsukishima looks almost flustered.

Ah, so that’s how it is. He looks back at Koganegawa, arms coming to stretch behind his head. “Nah, I think I’m gonna turn in for tonight, age’s catching up on me, you see.” He makes a mockery of a yawn, forcing his feet to remain still through all they itch for is to get out of this dimly lit corridor.

As soon as possible, now.

“Aren’t you like two years older than us?” Koganegawa asks, craning his head to the side -hmm, like this Tetsuro can see what Kenma said when he first saw a picture of the guy, his hair looks like an Angry Bird. Do those things have names?-.

“Yeah, but you’re l athletes. I’m just an office mook.” Tetsuro scrambles. “Anyway, nice to have greeted you, Koganegawa, see you later.” He says, then turns to Tsukishima, who is staring at him through narrowed eyes.

“You’re leaving.” He’s not asking, just like Tetsuro.

He grimaces a little, trying not to look at Kageyama. “Yeah, I’m tired.” He puts his hands on his hips and steps forward until he’s just shy of too close for social comfort. “It was good to see you play, you’re always getting better Tsukki.”

“Thanks, Ku-“ But then Tetsuro is walking past him, with a smile and a wave for Kageyama, to his credit, he thinks he does it pretty well. No one who doesn't know him would be able to tell the difference at all.

.

.

What was that?

Kei watches Kuroo go, noting how the older man’s steps are stiffer than usual, how his ever straight back is just slightly bowed. He wants to reach out, he does, but he feels like his limbs have turned to wax suddenly, and Kageyama’s light hold on his wrist is the one thing keeping him from toppling over.

Or that’s how it feels, at least until Kuroo turns the corner and Kei seems to have been released from whatever spell that was. “Oi, I’m talking to you,” Kageyama says. 

Kei turns to him, brow furrowed. “I'm listening, did you find my brace?”

Kageyama scoffs, eyes darting over to the corner that Kuroo disappeared through a couple of minutes ago. “You should go.” He says, pulling his backpack to the front and pulling out Kei’s black ankle brace. “And you owe me ramen.”

Kei mulls it over for a second. But go where? Say what? Kuroo is tired and going home, that’s normal. He did seem upset, but for all Kei knows he was just worn down. “You’re coming with us for drinks, right?” he asks in Kageyama’s direction as he bends down to remove his left shoe and secure the brace in its place.

His Achilles has seen better days, the relief is almost immediate.

Truthfully, he didn’t expect to see the older man at the game today, he didn’t come last Sunday after all, and they’re not texting all that much anymore, so there really wasn’t a reason for him to be there. Even if Kei felt a _little_ warm seeing him in his number.

_Fuck_.

“You’re not allowed to call me an idiot anymore,” Kageyama says, as the last few members of the team trickle out into the corridor. 

Kei looks up, frowning. “I’m just stating the truth.”

“No, you’re not allowed to call me an idiot about that-“ He says, jerking his nose towards the corner. “-you’re worse than me.”

“Oh, shut up,” Kei says, slipping his shoe back on. “He was tired, I don’t have to chase him or anything. Besides he was only here for the game.”

Kageyama frowns but doesn’t say anything else. He knows at this point that doing so will only make Kei more defensive, and as such, more stubborn. And anyway, this is more pushy and proactive than he usually is, he and Kei are used to snarking at each other until it either helps their current issues or they end up fucking. Still, it’s somewhat understandable. Though he has never voiced it, Kei knows the other has always thought he was an idiot for not telling Kuroo the truth.

Even more so since the other man crashed back into Kei’s life.

He figures it because Kageyama might do anything to go back in time and change things around a little. Everything would change, Kei knows even if all he did was go back there and not say a couple of hurtful things.

But he’s not Kageyama and Kuroo is not Hinata.

In fact, when it comes to that Kuroo, is the absolute opposite of how Hinata was. The ginger spent about half of the time he wasn’t talking about volleyball talking about his soulmate, whereas Kuroo doesn’t want them, doesn’t care for their existence, doesn’t even really know how they sound. How Kei sounds. 

Anyways, they all head down to some fancy bar, Kyoutani and Yahaba included. Kei abstains from looking at them for too long. If he does, he only has the option of making some sour comment -probably about how Kyoutani turns to some sort of spoiled puppy when his soulmate is around him to rub his head-, because feeling like they’re cute is not something he’s too capable of right now. 

Of course, life’s not about to allow that.

Kei ends up shoved in the back of Mishima’s car with the lovebirds. Kageyama is riding shotgun, as he’s a ‘guest’ or something equally ridiculous, while Kei has to press himself close to the door so his legs don’t end up tangled with the others. All their legs are too long as is. 

Yahaba whispers something in Kyoutani’s ear, and the blond shrugs turning to fix his gaze on Kei, more curious than annoyed.

Now that he knows him, Kei can tell. The man isn’t mad, he just has very unfortunate eyebrows, the fact that they’re dyed doesn’t help. “Is your boyfriend coming?”

“Ken,” Yahaba reprehends. “He never said anything about that.”

The other bond shrugs again. “Beats me, but the guy keeps shooting up at our stuff, like the Sendai branch of the JVA doesn’t have more than one employee.” He looks back at Kei. “So, is he coming?”

Kei purses his lips, arms coming up to cross over his chest. The car’s AC is turned up too high, it’s already night. “No,” he says, rolling his eyes in the most disdainful way he can. “And your better half is right, Kyoutani, he’s not my boyfriend.”

Kyoutani glares at him, now for real. “Sure, whatever you say.” He says, looking out of the window.

Surprisingly, it’s Yahaba that pipes up next. “He did seem pretty excited to see you, though.” He says, looking at his nails in mock disinterest. “We were waiting together, he even had one of those hoodies with your number on them.”

“Yeah, he has a history of being over-enthusiastic.” Kei quips back. “Which isn’t really my problem, nor does it make him anything to me, other than a friend at least.”

Yahaba cranes his head to the side. “I see.” He says, with eyes that remind Kei way too much of Oikawa’s even though he hasn’t seen Oikawa in like seven years. “You’re one of those people.” Kei already knows what he’s going to say. He has never known if it’s just the situation he’s in or if it's stuck from Kuroo, but he really, really hates it now when people assume what Yahaba presumably has. “Waiting for your soulmate, right?”

He doesn’t even deign to answer the other, just gives him the most venomous glare he can muster. And it must be an ugly one because even Kyoutani recoils a little. 

The est of the ride is spent in relative silence, only Mishima’s awkward attempts at small talk interrupt it. Kageyama keeps shooting Kei incredulous glances from the front of the car. Even when they arrive at the fancy bar that Mishima promised them for their first victory in V1.

It’s more of a dance-and-drink place that their usual hangouts, and everyone starts letting loose as soon as they cross the threshold. He and Kageyama secure a small booth in a corner and start ordering fruity cocktails. Neither wants to dance, Kageyama is awful at it and Kei just doesn’t -drunk Kei does, though, so maybe later, yeah, maybe later-.

And Kageyma is still looking at him in that way that’s half-pitying half-annoyed.

So Kei sips at his Cosmo or whatever this thing is called and busies himself with his phone, scrolling mindlessly through his Instagram. “I think he thinks we're dating,” Kageyama says, all serious. "Kuroo."

Kei doesn’t even look up. “Why would he ever think that?” He laughs. “Of all people thee two of us… It’s not like anyone knows about-“ He stops cold on his tracks. “Does Miwa know? Did you tell her?”

The look in Kageyama’s face is comically gobsmacked. “Of course not!” He snaps back as soon as he recovers. “Do you think I go around telling my sister that- I didn't mean it because of that!” He insists. “I meant it because I’d think the same thing!”

“Well, I don’t know, you lose tour filter when yo drink!” Kei bites back. “And yeah, I know how it looks, we’re both soulmate-less and live together or whatever.” He grits his teeth, glaring up at Kageyama. “But he’s not that stupid and he _knows_ me.” He shakes his head. Kuroo has been hearing him complain about Kageyama and his ill-fated soulmate bond with Hinata and everything else for ages.

There’s definitely no way he’s that blind. And he doesn’t know about the sex unless Miwa somehow found out and told him, which would be uncharacteristic of her anyway. Even if she did spend that whole hellish shoot thing-teasing the life out of Kei.

“I really, have told no one nothing!” Kageyama snaps back. “And he doesn’t know you that well, don’t you think?” He is yelling now, whatever son the DJ is playing is loud enough that they can’t hear each other. “You won’t even tell him he’s your-“

“Shut up!” Kei yells, loud enough that even with the music a couple people turn around to look at them. He looks down. “I know, ok? I know I'm a jerk for not telling him. And this does look like I’ve been stringing him along, but what do you want me to do?”

Kageyama snatches both their empty glasses and stands up, lips pursed. “I don’t know, something other than feeling sorry for yourself?”

Childish as it is, Kei mock imitates him as the setter goes. He pulls his phone back up, jumping between applications, impatiently waiting for more alcohol. What does Kageyama know? It’s not as easy as Kei just walking up to Kuroo’s door and telling him that-

That he wanted Kuro to kiss him, that day.

That he likes him, maybe.

That they’re soulmates, probably not.

He chomps down on his lip, it really does feel a lot more sensitive lately. Like he’s been doing that often. Every time he answers the other curtly, every time he thinks of plans to get back some closeness that he’s not brave enough to execute.

His thumb swipes, and swipes. And then it stops.

Because, as if mocking him, there’s a picture of Kuroo in that damned hoodie waiting for the game to start today, with a smile that might well be splitting his face in two. Kei’s number is blatantly visible on the back.

Ok, so maybe he came to the game for Kei.

Maybe, and what’s so important about that, why do his eyes burn. Sometimes he really wishes he didn’t freeze that day a month and a half ago, there are so many things about this whole situation that he wishes he’d done differently. Even if most of them might've turner out just as tangled and confusing and difficult to manage as this his.

Kageyama comes down, setting another drink in front of Kei with a huff. Kageyama who probably regrets a whole lot more.

But he can’t fix it at all, and maybe Kei can. 

He already decided to keep all this to himself at that training camp all those years ago, that can’t be taken back. Hell, he still doesn’t want to tell Kuroo about the soulmate thing. But Kei likes him, has to believe he would even if the voice in his head was someone else.

And Kuroo hasn’t had a voice in his head for so long…

He looks up, Kageyama is looking at him expectantly. Kei gives him a mean, resigned glare before he dumps back the drink in one swallow, and stands up. “I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” he says wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and clearing his throat to soothe the burn of the alcohol.

“Just don’t die.” Kageyama huffs. “Auntie would _definitely_ kill me”

Kei just huffs as he walks away. Two drinks, he’s not drunk, not even tipsy.

He flags down the first cab that stops In front of the bar to drop someone off, and hat’s when he realizes he has no idea what Kuroo’s actual address is. He knows the general area it’s located in, though, so that’s what he tells the driver.

**_FROM: ME- 21:33_ **

_Kuroo_

_Hi_

_Are you home?_

_Where do you live?_

There’s a traffic jam right here though, so that gives him a little time. Kei sinks back into the leather of the seat and slips his headset over his ears, selecting _that_ one playlist very purposefully. 

He has to keep himself in this mindset, if he backs out mentally, he might end up doing something stupid that makes everything go to hell. He can't allow that.

_Hold on, what's the rush, what's the rush we're not done are we_

_Cause I don't need to change this atmosphere we've made if_

_You can stay one more hour, can you stay one more hour_

It's an old song, one of the first he put in this playlist, somehow it’s fitting for what he’s about to do. Or what he _thinks he's_ about to do, he can’t ensure perfect execution, but he’s damn well going to try -there's also the issue of Kei maybe not being right about Kuroo and being turned down gently, but he tries not to think about that-. Kuroo answers about halfway through the ride, and Kei can imagine him, slack jawed, looking at his phone.

He doesn’t answer the message, his fingers don’t feel like they can work well enough for that right now, just gives the driver the address and takes a deep breath. 

It’s not just Kuroo he needs to ambush.

.

.

Tetsuro has a night routine, with the whole issue of the pills causing him insomnia, he needs to or he really wouldn't sleep at all.

Especially now that he doesn’t have to pull all-nighters for university stuff.

God, he’s turning into an old lady.

Case in point, he’s laid back on his couch, having put on a cream his mom sent from wherever she’s vacationing with a note that it really helps prevent wrinkles -he wasn’t gonna waste it, whatever-. The TV is on, playing that new historical drama that has the late Friday nightspot, and which Tetsuro can sort of follow along to, but also, can’t really name or distinguish most of the secondary characters.

Someone poisoned the empress though, it’s getting god.

So he's on his couch, being an old lady and waiting for the teapot to whistle when he gets Tsukishima’s text. To say that he's shaken would be the biggest understatement of his life. He did put a bit of an emphasis on his routine tonight, only to dissipate the unsettling, bitter feeling that his run-in with Kageyama at the arena left Tetsuro with.

He also absolutely refused to listen to any music, that would have been just asking to end up sad.

Because he isn't sad and he isn’t jealous. There’s nothing to be jealous of.

Alas, he doe get the message and proceeds to almost fall of the couch, just as the peeress starts coughing up blood everywhere.

There isn’t an explanation attached, maybe Tsukki wants to redirect his free merch here? It can’t be that he’s coming over to Tetsuro’s that would be pretty weird, not to mention a little rude. They do know each other well, and they’re friends.

But they’re not close enough to be dropping by the other’s apartment at ten pm on a Friday o a whim. Unless it’s not a whim unless Tsukishima wants something else? But then why Tetsuro?

He can’t stand the curiosity that fills him, he answers with the address of his little apartment and then turns his attention back to the TV, or tries to. Clearly, he’s imagining stuff _he_ wants to happen, there’s no way Tsukishima would show up here for whatever reason. And he doesn’t even answer the text, so there, he’s probably just drunk or got asked by someone, maybe his coach.

Yeah, that must be it.

He has almost managed to pour his entire attention span into the drama -it was the queen mother and she was trying to frame one of the concubines-, and the cream has dried on his skin by the time the doorbell rings.

This time he does fall off the bed.

If this were Tokyo there would be a doubt about who is behind the door. He has a lot more friends over there, and then there are his grandparents, of course, god bless them.

Over here, it’s either his assistant at work or Tsukishima -unless Kenma has taken a long, annoying trip without telling Tetsuro, he has the cash for it-. Tetsuro checks his phone again, there are no new messages, what’s more, Tsukishima hasn’t been active anywhere for like half an hour.

It surely _can’t_ be.

His door doesn’t have a peephole, so all he can do is count his steps to the door and take a deep breath before he turns the handle.

If this were a movie or something like that, it would surely be raining, pouring behind Tsukishima, lightning flashing through the sky and the blond would be shivering, soaked. As it is, the night is decently warm, even though autumn starts in about two weeks and Tsukishima only looks a little winded and red-cheeked. Like he sprinted up the stairs to this tenth-floor apartment instead of taking the stairs.

Tetsuro looks down at his ratty pajamas, he worked so hard convincing himself that Tsukishima was most definitely not coming over, that changing into decent clothes didn’t even cross his mind. 

It takes him a few seconds of taking everything in before he can actually look the blond in the eye. And that’s probably his biggest mistake because Tsukishima’s eyes are all at once absolutely determined and infinitely vulnerable. He’s pinned by that amber gaze in the exact position that he answered the door.

For a second it seems like neither of them is ever going to say anything.

But then Tsukishima heaves in a deep breath and any mistrust or annoyance Tetsuro may have been harboring just evaporates, seeing the other so clearly push himself. “Tsukki-“ he starts. “-you could have told me you were coming.”

“I know,” Tsukishima says, then sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites it nervously. ”I know I just-“

Tetsuro feels his brow furrow, just what’s going on? He reaches out for Tsukishima’s shoulder, it’s just as tense as that afternoon that they almost kissed. “Are you ok?” he asks, genuinely worried now.

“Yeah, I just-“ Tsukishima steels himself, nose wrinkled like he can’t find the words to explain whatever it is that is going on. “I’m not dating Kageyama!” He blurts out then, a bit too loud for it to seem natural.

A warmth spreads through Tetsuro's chest, though he doesn’t allow himself to acknowledge it. He takes half a step back, hands going to his hips. “Yeah, I know that.” He says although he didn’t know for sure until just now. 

Tsukishima swallows hard. “Oh, I see.” He says, almost automatically. “That’s fine then.”

“Did you come all the way here to tell me that Tsukki?” Tetsuro asks, eyebrows rising. Under his hand, Tsukishima tenses up even more. He takes another half-step back putting more distance between their bodies, he doesn’t trust himself to not do something rash right now. “Are you ok? Do you want to come in?”

Tsukishima closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “No, I’m ok.” He says, and then contradicting himself, takes a step forward. And then he’s so close, Tetsuro can smell a hint of alcohol in his breath, but he’s too steady on his feet and it’s too early for him to be drunk. “I thought you assumed that-“ he says, eyes still closed. “-today, since you left in a rush.”

Tetsuro feels like he’s been nailed to his spot, Tsukishima was worried? He looks up at the other, just a little, just that tiny two inches of difference between them. “I mean I’ve suspected. Did you think I was mad about that?” Tsukishima just looks at him. “Is this about-“

“Yeah, it’s about that.” Tsukishima interrupts him, and he’s so close, so close.

Tetsuro may have gotten a concussion from falling off the couch a while ago, yeah, he's probably bleeding on the carpet right now with the biggest concussion known to man, or something, there’s no way this is happening.

But it is. Tsukishima is in his doorway and he looks a little wrecked, and he’s here because he though Tetsuro was jealous and cared enough to try and make it right. “Tsukki-“ His hand squeezes at the shoulder under it. “-Tsukki, you have to tell me you don’t- I’m about to kiss you if you don’t-“

He really is expecting some sort of negative, a stop signal of any sort. Nd that would be it, he would be able to control himself. Instead, Tsukishima takes another step forward, now fully inside Tetsuro’s apartment. “That's the point,” he says, less than a foot away. “Kuroo-“

Impossibly, delightfully, the blond’s muscles loosen under Tetsuro’s hand, and he only registers it because next thing he knows he’s pulling Tsukishima to him and crashing his mouth on top of the other’s.

He is met with as much fervor form the blond, who immediately snakes his hands into Tetsuro’s hair, thumbs pressing at his temples gently. Tsukishima tastes a little like booze and mint cream, and he doesn't melt in Tetsuro's grasp, he pushes back, hard muscle against hard muscle, a little whimper escaping his throat when Tetsuro licks at that poor, abused bottom lip.

They part soon enough, both breathless like the kiss lasted a lot longer than it did. Tetsuro catches Tsukishima’s gaze, feeling both giddy and nervous. “I should have done this that time.”

Tsukishima’s gaze is heated as he says. “Yeah, you really should have.” 

Then he kisses Tetsuro again, and someone kicks the door closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last song is one of my favorites ever.  
> So I'm really wondering if I should make this an ME rating, i kinda wanna write the smuts but... I'm not sure.  
> What d'yall think is gonna happen? I'd love to know what you think.
> 
> Lots of love! Kyrye.


	6. Would you have me? (would you want me?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kei's head is kind of a warzone, and there are propositions, proposals, and smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! So, this chapter was very fun to write... too fun actually, it was supposed to cover a lot more, but I kinda got carried away, be aware this story is now rated E.  
> That said, I don't wanna spoil anything, have fun!  
> (I strongly recommend playing the two songs in this chapter with the scenes they're in!)  
> (You're all too sweet)

Made for each other.

That’s what soulmates are supposed to be, at the core of things -unneeded/unwanted surround sound system aside- at least it’s what the classic theory that a couple sleep-deprived scientists formulated around half a century ago. Which then got picked up by tabloids and big corporations and became widely accepted.

For so long, Kei couldn’t see how.

Was it some sort of omniscient thing that matched them? That seemed a bit simplistic. And if it was random genetic compatibility then it didn’t take into account anything about the environment, the will of the subjects. It was all either too clinical or too speculative. That was a particularly bleak outlook to have, would have been, at least had his parents not been in the picture.

Whatever the true nature of it is, nature, nurture, a mix of both, he’s sure _this_ is what it feels like.

He’s sure because he’s been with people before -mostly Kageyama, yes, but he probably counts more than any others with how long they have been hooking up- but this is something completely different. Why the hell hasn’t he been kissing Kuroo all these years? How has he been such an idiot?

The door slammed closed god knows how long ago, it was his heel that hooked behind it, that pushed it so he could be alone with Kuroo, so he could _have_ Kuroo. Now, he's not asking, he's taking and the older man seems all too eager to give.

The apartment is small, just enough for one person that isn’t around all that often, the dining table is right in front of the door, a square, wooden, lonely-looking thing bare of anything but a salt shaker. Kei’s not wasting any time, so that’s where they end up. He’s not a particularly assertive person, it seems like he’s using up his year’s supply when he walks Kuroo back to it.

Their lips don’t part for more than a fraction of a second every time, just enough to breathe, just enough that neither of them is lightheaded by the time that Kuroo scoots up over the corner of the table and Kei walks between his legs. Those legs that then proceed to wrap around him so perfectly. 

It’s only then that it catches up to him when a breathy huff that may have been a chuckle at some point is pressed to his lips. Kei pulls back, just a little, just as far as the legs wrapped around his middle will allow, and it's not much, it’s leaning-distance, kissing-distance - _why the hell isn’t he kissing Kuroo right_ now _?-_ so when his eyes snap open, almost panicked at how fitting it all is, they’re immediately met by Kuroo’s.

Kuroo’s eyes with their golden flecks and that thing that’s just a smidge too stubborn or it would definitely be a plea. “It’s fine,” Kuroo says, voice quiet, tiny in the room that seems to stretch on for the entire surface of the world. His hand is on Kei’s cheek, burning, branding. “It’s fine, we’re fine Tsukki.”

And Kei notices, because he now has to, because now he can't stop, how quickly the older man is breathing, how his brow is wet, Kuroo's lip is bloodied but when he lifts a hand to wipe away the residue there’s nothing under it, healthy, pink skin. “Oh-“ he says, his own breaths coming slower, “Again.”

Kuroo’s hand shifts, thumb mimicking Kei’s gesture, his lip stings. “’Course it’s you Tsukki,” he says with a little laugh. “Keep biting your lip like that, I’m surprised you don’t have a scar there or something.”

Kei can only hum. “Sorry.” And he has to stop himself from biting at his bloodied lip. Of course, even now something had to happen.

But of course, Kuroo notices it. The legs around his middle pull him closer. “I don’t mind.” As if to prove his point, he licks over the remnant of blood on his lip. “I’ll just have to be careful.” His hand pulls Kei’s face closer until their foreheads are pressed together. “I-if you still want-“ he stammers, eyes drifting down to Kei’s lips.

He takes a deep breath, somehow much calmer than he was a second ago, maybe it's how even Kuroo also seems so daunted by this thing happening between them. “Yeah.” Kei breathes out, and he really doesn’t hesitate, really doesn’t mind the tang of iron when he leans forwards, bracing his hands on either side of Kuroo’s hips on the cool wood of the table. 

And it’s a balm, on everything, even that annoying little voice that occupies the place where Kuroo’s used to be in the back of Kei’s head. 

It’s not like it has been screaming anything new, Kei knows, for fucks sake, he _knows._ This is his Hail Mary, but it’s also going to be his fallout. 

He has to tell Kuroo now, that's only becoming clearer every second that he's in the man's arms.

Later.

Later because Kuroo’s hands are in his hair and the older man is letting himself be laid back on the table, pliant in a way Kei ever imagined, but as it is, he can’t draw away. He can’t even look away in the few moments he takes to get some extra breath in his lungs -and even that’s beginning to feel a lot less important with each passing second- and fix his crooked glasses. 

He leans in-or is pulled, at this point it’s like neither knows whose hands are whose- again, mouthing over Kuroo’s jaw until he gets to the man’s lips, marveling in the way his hair falls back in this position, leaving most of his face bared. And Kei has a fleeting thought of the gods deciding to make Kuroo walk around with _that_ hairstyle not as some sort of punishment but because no one would ever get anything done with _th_ -

It must be the way he shifts when he feels something hard, pressed to his hip, or the way Kuroo arches in response, but the sad, frail-looking table wobbles dangerously, and they both freeze, eyes meeting in horror.

There’s a crack that scares the heartbeat out of Kei, but it holds, and he carefully, quickly extricates himself from Kuroo, just as the other lowers his legs as close to the ground as possible in order not to put too much weight on the wobbly structure when he finally pushes off it. 

“You should get a new one.” Kei is surprised by just how breathy his voice sounds. “That one doesn't seem that reliable.”

Kuroo laughs, at least he sounds about as wrecked as Kei does, it would be so unfair if he didn’t. “Nah, it just can’t take two grown men on top of it.” He pants a little, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides like he doesn’t know how to do with them. “And I do mostly eat on the couch Tsukki.”

Kei grimaces, though there’s a smile playing at the corner of his lip. “Gross.”

Kuroo heaves out a laugh, one of those twitching hands shyly reaching out to grab Kei’s, wrapping around it, a warm, reassuring weight. “And here I was gonna eat you there.” He smirks, and Kei feels like a switch has been flipped for all his blood to rush to his face. “No use, I guess-“ he leans forward and up, nose brushing Kei’s.

“It’s probably full of crumbs anyway,” Kei remarks, looking away, he can feel Kuroo’s breath on his lips.

“Mmm.” Kuroo leans in, and Kei stiffens, waiting, but that head only droops to rest on his shoulder, a hand snaking to the small of his back. “You deserve the bed anyways, Kei.”

It’s electrifying, it’s everything he thought this would be and he can feel the answer -the obvious answer- bubbling up his throat. God, he’s done denying himself things for tonight and from here on out. “Then what are you waiting for, Tetsuro?”

There’s no subtlety in the way Kuroo captures his mouth then, nor in the way that he proceeds to grin lasciviously and tug Kei to the bedroom.

.

.

He’s still half-convinced he fell off the couch and is currently bleeding on his rug, and thus, hallucinating.

At least until Tsukishima falls back on his bed, tugging off both the jacket and shirt he wears in one long breath, there’s no way even concussed and seconds away from death his brain could conjure up the way the blond looks.

They should talk, Tetsuro should be clear, he _should_ -

Seven years is a long time.

He crawls over Tsukishima on the bed, his own shirt lost somewhere in the short corridor that separates the kitchen and the bedroom. “Sorry for the mess.” He finds himself saying as one of his knuckles caresses a path up the blond’s neck and cheek. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Tsukishima, who hasn't looked around the room by this point, doesn’t bother to even pretend to give it a cursory glance, those amber eyes are a little exasperated as he leans right into Tetsuro’s touch. “It's not like you bring many of your visitors back here, right?” he asks with a little smirk, nudging Tetsuro’s hand with his glasses in a silent request.

Tetsuro obliges, plucking the thick frames over Tsukishima’s hair and reaching down to place them on top of the little stool at the foot of the bed. “You’re the only visitor I would expect in this city.” He says as Tsukishima’s arms come up to encircle his neck. And then he can’t help it, he leans down to bury his face in the crook of the blond’s neck. “And I’ve liked you for so long, you’re the only one I’d want back here anyways.” 

The blond smells of some citric soap and a little musk. Tetsuro can feel how his breath catches as he answers. “That’s good.” He says dryly, sighing right after. “It’d be pretty pathetic if I was the only one.”

It’s such a little statement, but he has never dared to hope for a grand declaration from the other, has never let himself believe Tsukishima would give his twisty, issue-filled self a chance. But here the blond is, laid out under him, when he was at a party, at a bar, where he could’ve gotten whatever or whoever else with minimum effort.

Here he is, stating that he returns Tetsuro’s feelings, at least in some measure.

And he doesn’t have the strength to believe he can keep away from Tsukishima. He turns his head to the side, to catch that pulse between his teeth for a second, before his lips travel down, _down_ , down, biting small red marks all the way across the pale, taut skin.

It’s everything, it’s too much, Tsukishima tastes like everything Tetsuro thought he was too jaded to have, like a home he hasn’t lived in, in more than a decade, like the sky the day he left for Korea. 

He’s the music Tetsuro doesn't get to hear, moans echoing off the tiny walls of his tiny apartment that never felt whole until he opened the door this afternoon to find Tsukishima breathless and determined.

The blond doesn't need to be nudged to lift his hips so Tetsuro can tug down his pants and underwear, he does so on his own, eyes still on Tetsuro's, a whine caught in his throat.

He takes the younger man in his mouth, and when he looks up his eyes are glassy, lower lip again caught between his teeth and it’d be worrying if it wasn’t so endearing. “Kuroo, fuck- “ his back arches, those skilled fingers, as calloused as Tetsuro’s own once were, threat through his hair, gentle, like Tsukishima only wants to feel him there. 

Tetsuro grins at him, at the arm thrown over his forehead though Tsukishima is peeking at him from under it. “That's not what you called me before.” He whispers, smirking.

Tsukishima pouts, rolls his eyes then pouts again. “Tetsuro-“ he huffs. “Don’t tease- it’s- tease me later.” His mouth takes on a deep-set, almost serious. “I want you now, c’mon.” And now he _is_ covering his face with the arm, and it’s so cute, he can’t help the little laugh that rises up his throat as his palms squeeze over Tsukishima’s hipbones. 

“Whatever you want-“ He says. Reaching up to caress the blond’s cheek. “-Kei.”

The lube is between the mattress and the bed frame, maybe its muscle memory but his hand closes around it on the first try. Tsukishima stares at him as he does, quickly wiggling out of his bottoms, no fuss about it, but no uncertainty either.

Tetsuro doesn’t have much experience.

In fact, it soon becomes obvious that he’s the one with the least experience. Tsukishima guides him, often blushing, whimpering bashfully, but always wanting, and a little smug t the expressions he manages to bring to Tetsuro's face. And Tetsuro wants to ask but there’s going to be time for that later, he plans to make time for that later. This is not a one-time thing.

And besides, he’s a quick study, and after a little, while he has the blond squirming and moaning, flushed down to his chest and pleading in voices that Tetsuro will never forget.

It’s like he melts, and so does Tetsuro along with him. Even when, especially when he finally pushes into that warm, tight heat, and Tsukishima pulls him so close his face is buried on Tetsuro’s shoulder, teeth latched on to it, surely leaving a bruise.

It doesn’t matter, the experience, not to him, at least. Nothing beats the way Tsukishima arches into him, the way the blond calls his name or groans into his mouth, completely undone. His amber eyes are possessive, his nails surely break the skin of Tetsuro’s back, and he’s everything Tetsuro has ever wanted, at least since he knows what it’s like to want. 

When they’re both spent, it’s surprisingly Tsukishima that holds Tetsuro to his chest. And they stay like that for a while, until the sweat starts to cool on their bodies.

“It’s late.” The blond says voice as neutral as Tetsuro has ever heard it.

Tetsuro’s heart clenches a little. He looks up. “Stay here. Tsukki.” He whispers, and it’s stupid because who’s gonna hear him? There’s only the two of them here. “Really, I-“ he’s tired, and the blond must be even more tired than him, what with having played a whole game earlier. “Just don’t go.”

Those amber eyes are wide, what little light comes in through the window dancing off of them. “Kuroo, I-“ And maybe Tetsuro gets a little ahead of himself, because hurt blooms in his chest, it shows in his eyes, clearly, because Tsukishima’s lips curl like it’s hurting him too. “-I didn’t plan to.” He says, at last, almost looking resigned.

Tetsuro can’t believe it but he doesn’t feel strong enough to be a decent person and tell him to go. “Let’s get cleaned up, then.” He says.

.

.

The first time that Kei wakes up that morning, it’s to a shrill, absolutely demonic alarm that the person beside him on the bed hurries to shut down.

He squirms, annoyed as the warmth of said person leaves the bed, eyes opening a crack to confirm that the sky outside is just barely beginning to light up. “Sorry, Tsukki.” He hears as a kiss is pressed to his temple. “That’s my pill alarm, I’ll be back in a second.”

Groggy, his eyes close again, even as he grows more and more aware of Kuroo’s footsteps, and then the sound of the tap being opened. 

By the time Kuroo gets back to bed, Kei’s fully awake, and a little cod, having gone to sleep in just his boxers. The older man slips in the bed behind him, one arm going around Kei’s middle to spoon him against his chest.

He really wishes he could go back to sleep.

Because it’s time for the fallout, and he knows it, it’s time and there’s nothing else to do.

Kuroo mumbles something into his shoulder, and Kei closes his eyes tight, curling into the body behind him until they fit like they’ve been made for each other. He is not sure how long it takes before he drifts into that superficial sleep that’s filled with weird shapes and nightmares.

He only knows that he wakes up to humming, clear and loud in the back of his head. A quick glance at his phone tells him it’s already way past ten. Kuroo isn’t beside him on the bed, and Kei almost panics a little. 

But he’s not hard to locate, not when he starts singing softly, the sound in Kei’s head echoed closely by the one coming from the kitchen -even if he did miss this voice terribly, Kei really wishes he had a pill of his own to suppress the sounds right now-.

_I sit and watch for the few lights for the green side_

_Lose myself sink into your sunlight_

_Breathe in the breeze like a sweet sigh keep me tongue-tied_

It’s too sweet and Kei freezes for a second, heart jumping to his throat. Kuroo can’t be making breakfast for the both of them, right? Not when Kei’s going to go to him to break his heart and confess to being a liar that took advantage of the fact that Kuroo takes the pills to deceive him for ages.

But _of course_ , he is, Kei can smell the pancake batter.

He sighs as he pulls on his glasses, pants, and shirt. Better not to have this conversation in his underwear.

Better not to have this conversation at all, a small voice in the back of his head says, but he already feels bad enough, doing what he did with Kuroo last night while keeping him in the dark.

Kuroo is still signing when Kei leans his hip against the kitchen doorway and stares at the -annoyingly idyllic- scene that the other man’s making. It’s just sunny enough for Kuroo’s skin to have a golden tint to it as he flips pancakes deftly, even though the older man has been living here for relatively little time, the kitchen has a lived-in look.

-is that a rack of spices?-

Alright, he can watch for a second.

Kuroo doesn’t give Kei a second, though, he whips around, a cocky smirk stretching his mouth. “You sure slept long.” He says, head craning to the side, leaning back on the counter f the tiny kitchen. “Are you alright Tsukki? You look worried.”

Kei can only gape for a second, lower lip trembling and he hopes he’s the only one that notices. Kuroo looks ar him through worried eyes, and heavy eyelids, he sighs and a hand comes up to rub at his shoulder. Too friendly, too not-what-they-had-last-night.

“C’mon, let's have some breakfast,” he says, tugging at Kei’s sleeve. “Pass me some plates from the cupboard?”

Is this what’s normal? Kei’s rather scarce experience with one night stands is to be believed, it isn’t, but he has snuck out before the sun came up every time, so it's not like he's an expert. 

He never has been asked to stay, though, so he gets the plates, hands them off to Kuroo, steeling his resolve until his eyes drift to the small bowl of sliced strawberries. He looks up at Kuroo, who is just staring at him with eyes that are just a little bit afraid.

It shatters a little.

Not the bowl, Kei’s resolve.

“You don’t really like strawberries.” He says hoarsely as Kuroo grins.

“With enough maple syrup…” he turns away to heave some pancakes on the second plate. "Besides, you do. Couch or table?”

Kei thinks of the table for a second, of last night. Maybe it would be better, anyways, less personal, easier to put distance between them. “I don’t think I want to take my chances with the table.”

Kuroo laughs, almost relieved. “Couch it is then.” He says, taking the dishes and leaving two steaming cups of coffee for Kei top carry. Once everything is set up on the low coffee table, Kuroo runs back to the kitchen with the strawberries, leaving Kei with a perfect moment to panic.

Or, as he would call it, a moment to figure out how to come clean.

So, panic.

First, he thinks of starting with some explanations, with background, with the fact that he never was a romantic and he never cared anyways and Kuroo should be able to see that and unders- but that’s presumptuous and manipulative. Maybe he should just be blunt, say it, and take a dive out of the window, or not, because this apartment is on a tenth floor, so he would have to sprint out of the door without shoes and hope Kuroo’s too dumbstruck to try to stop him until it’s too late.

But that’s cruel.

“Hey, don’t make that face-“ the hand is back on his shoulder as Kuroo sits down in front of Kei, a mere foot of couch filling and fabric separating them. “-it’s fine Tsukki, if you’re regretting it all-“

Maybe it’s because that’s the last thing on Kei’s mind, maybe it’s the incredulous feeling that fills him when he considers the fact that Kuroo may actually think Kei regrets sleeping with him. “No I don’t.” he blurts out, too loud in the little apartment. His eyes dart to Kuroo’s and he feels an overwhelming need to bite down on his lip. “I really don’t.”

Kuroo sucks in a breath through his teeth. “ I see.” He says, soft and tentative, and then the hand on Kei’s shoulder is on his cheek, brushing up until its bumping into the frame of his glasses. “I see.” Everything, from the touch to the voice, is tentative, Kei wants to scream.

“Kuroo I-“

“Just-“ Kuroo interrupts him. “-gimme a minute here Tsukki.” He says, and Kei knows it’s a bad idea because he needs a minute himself, he needs a whole goddamn eternity.

But time passes, and Kuroo doesn’t seem to be any close to forming any coherent sentences, so Kei takes a deep breath. “There’s some-“

“I’m in love with you.” The older man says, cutting Kei off entirely. “I know it’s too soon to say that-“ he stops to think for a second, all while Kei’s heart is folding itself inside out. “-no, scratch that, it’s been seven years, it’s not too soon.” He searches for Kei’s gaze. “You don’t have to say it back, I know I’m springing this on you suddenly, but it’s true. “ he sucks in a deep breath, hands making an attempt to retreat. Unconsciously, Kei grabs hold of the one on his cheek, keeping it where it is. “And I’d love to be your boyfriend, um- if you want-“

If whatever part of Kei’s brain that is in charge of rational decisions were working right now, maybe it’d talk Kuroo down gently, with enough maturity to know when to strike. Probably. But Kei will never know because that part is not responding and Kuroo’s hand is in his and in place of a response to Kuroo’s confession, all it can cook up is a question. “Are you sure?”

Its weak and stupid and Kuroo wouldn’t say something like this if he wasn’t. But the older man just smiles wistfully. “’Course I am Tsukki.” He says. “This isn’t some impulse-“ He runs his free hand through his hair, the plates of pancakes are cooling between them. Kei has to say something _now_ or he’s never going to. He tells his mouth to open but it won’t. “You know I’ve had my doubts about the pills, and the soulmates and all of it over the years. But I think you’re my proof, I found someone perfect and I didn’t need some dumb voices in my head to do it."

Kei bites his lip, looks down at the strawberry bowl, this time, his resolve shatters completely.

Is it so bad? He’ll take the pills, they’ll be normal, it’s not like what Kuroo is saying is any less true for it. If it had been anyone else singing in his head, Kei doesn’t think he’d have fallen for them over Kuroo.

But it _is_ Kuroo in the end.

So he looks up at the hopeful eyes in front of him, at the same time as his fingers interlace with Kuroo’s. “You could have waited until I had some sugar in me.” He teases. Kei’s voice is a little shaky, but the light of hope in Kuroo’s hazel eyes rekindles. “But yes I’d like that too.”

It feels unfair and manipulative.

But Kuroo smiles brightly at him, and Kei can’t help but lean forward and kiss the corner of his mouth then, that erases the unsettling feeling if only for a moment.

Kuroo gets the plates into their laps so they can cuddle, and that’s how they eat, mostly in silence, leaning into each other in front of the turned-off TV.

.

.

Tetsuro is a perceptive person, he just is.

The whole thing is probably a by-product of having learned to damn well dance on egg-shells for the first few years of his life.

He’s also stupid in love with someone that reciprocates his feelings, so he doesn’t put the pieces together until he and Tsukishima end up in bed again after their late breakfast.

There’s something wrong.

He glances at the head laid on his chest, pursing his lips, wondering if it might be better to just bring it up some other time. “If you keep staring like that I’m going to have to get the holes in my head repaired.” The blond says, craning his head up, amber gaze meeting Tetsuro’s. "I something wrong?"

Outside, it’s a bright, bright summer day. The world is moving, but in the stillness of the room, it seems as if all has stopped. Tetsuro takes a deep breath. “Are you really alright with this? I don’t mind taking things slower.”

Tsukishima raises his blond, pretty eyebrows at him. “Do I look like I’m bothered about this?” he asks, eyes all the brighter without the glasses obscuring them. Then, under the blanket, his legs shift, naked calves press to Tetsuro’s own. 

Tetsuro huffs. “Well, no,” he says, biting at the inside of his cheek. “But I think something’s bothering you.” Tsukishima’s hair is light, thin, and soft as his fingers thread through it. “I _have_ known you for a long time, I can tell.”

“That’s true.” Tsukishima leans into the touch. “Although I don’t know how much of a guarantee that is, it did take us seven years to act on this.” 

And now, Tetsuro knows when someone’s willfully sidetracking a conversation. But he’s also warm and happy and Tsukishima feels like the best thing he’s ever held. He can wait a little. “Mmm, I think it was the distance.” He says. “And we both needed to figure shit out.”

At that, the blond laughs a little. “It wouldn’t have been easy like that anyways, I always figured you’d find someone in Korea and stay there too.”

That’s about the most ridiculous thing the blond could say, Tetsuro reaches with his free hand, the one not under the blond’s back to cup his jaw. “I always thought I’d come back to find you with your soulmate.” He says in response, then he feels his face twist int a grimace. “Or Kageyama.”

Tsukishima just stares at him for a second in embarrassed silence, red blooming over his cheekbones. “Why?” he asks, nose wrinkled. 

Tetsuro shrugs, stroking the skin of Tsukishma’s jaw, hoping he’ll find the gesture calming. “It just seemed like a reasonable possibility.” He sighs, letting some of that old worry seep into his tone, even though he knows Tsukishima isn’t like that. “And you two do live together.”

For a second, the blond just looks at him, eyes assessing Tetsuro’s face before they drift to some point on the white walls of his bedroom. “In all fairness-” he heaves a long sigh, legs extricating from Tetsuro’s. 

_Oh_.

Oh crap.

He hurries to stop the blond from pulling away, looks like he found the can of worms right after he stopped looking for it. “Tell me.” He says simply.

Tsukishima looks up for a moment, and then nods, sitting up and scooting back so his face is level with Tetsuro’s and they’re both leaning back on the headboard. “So-“ he licks his lips nervously. “-we have hooked up… often.” He says quickly like he’s too embarrassed about it. “It was never anything serious-“ he purses his lips and then there’s a hand clutching at Tetsuro’s. “- or anything, really we were just close and-“ He stops when he notices that Tetsuro is smiling. “What are you amused for?”

Maybe it’s the way he puffs out his cheeks like a five-year-old, or how red he’s been progressively getting. But Tetsuro can’t help but laugh for a second. “You’re just cute when you’re earnest.” He says, and Tsukshima’s bordering on purple now, so he hurries to add. “Thank you for telling me, I'm not worried tho’, I know you’re not like that.”

Tsukishima glares at him. “Well, that’s underwhelming.” He huffs, arms crossing over his chest. “You make me tell you then barely react.”

“Nah, isn’t he still gone for shrimpy? After all the time that has passed that’s not going away any time soon.” Tetsuro reasons, scooting so they’re pressed together again. “Also, if you want me possessive just say the word. You’ll be wearing turtlenecks for the next three years.”

That earns a chuckle from the blond. “Don’t you dare-“ he smirks, eyes drifting down for a second to the lace where the faint outline of his teeth is etched in purple over Tetsuro’s shoulder. “Or I’ll do the same to you, and at least _I_ can wear turtlenecks when I’m not training.”

The gesture and the words are a bit more forward than he’s used to, and they take his breath away. “Kinky, I’ll get make up for both of us and you can do it.” He narrows his eyes playfully at the blond. “You’ll still know they’re there anyway.”

A stunned, quasi-aroused look takes over the blond’s face, right before he reaches for one of the pillows that did not meet his standards last night -and thus, ended up on the floor- and throws it at Tetsuro. “I hate you.” he hisses. “You’re not marking my neck up.”

“No, you don’t,” Tetsuro says, throwing the pillow over his shoulder and leaning in to look into these pretty amber eyes. “But if you’d rather somewhere else, I happen to know where Bo used to get those long kneepads.” He smirks wide. “And I _am_ going to Tokyo for his birthday, if you come with me you can pick them out yourself.”

“Oh, I do.” The blond says, lips pursed. “But I always wondered how those felt. I’ve never found any in my size in the stores here, though.” the last part is said with his head turned away, bruised bottom lip pushed out, and Tetsuro can’t help but lean in to capture them into a sweet, short kiss. 

“You don’t” he huffs when they part. “But we _are_ exclusive, right?” He asks, still a little anxious, this is new. This is _all_ very new and he really wants it to be clear. It’s something important, not worth fucking up at all.

The blond rolls his eyes at him. “Obviously,” he says, and the last of the haughty tone is swallowed up by Tetsuro’s lips.

.

.

Tinnitus, Kei knows what it's called.

Or at least that's what it feels like, this high pitched ringing that buzzes, low-intensity in the back of his head during the bus ride back home.

Summer has almost ended, by now, but it's still getting dark pretty late, the walk from the bus stop to his apartment seems too long and too short at the same time under the red-orange sky. 

At least Kuroo hasn't started singing or something, Kei really needs to think, and he can't take another pill until tomorrow. Hopefully, the older man will be tired enough not to show up in Kei's head for tonight. 

It's not that he's unhappy, there's a part of him that's skipping like Hinata after winning a match, but the rational part of him feels like it's sinking into quicksand. 

He was supposed to tell Kuroo last night. Even if it was a last-minute decision, he did decide to.

He was supposed to make things right and take the hate or whatever he had coming. 

Instead Kuroo... Kuroo was sweet and caring, and- Why did he have to go and say that? Kei was about to do it-

He sighs, taking the stairs in twos and threes. It's not Kuroo's fault, it never has been. 

God, he needs to sit, and think, it feels like his head is full of cotton balls or pillow filling, or something equally featureless. It feels like all his thoughts are caught between the fibers, as stuck and helpless as Kei feels.

It's probably why upon entering his apartment, he fails to recognize the jacket hung on the coat rack by the door, or the smell of lasagna wafting over to him from Kageyama's bedroom. That is until the door is swung open and he's dragged into the -still upsettingly bare- room like he's in some random B-movie, about to be devoured by the monster of the day.

Only what's inside is a whole lot scarier.

Three pairs of eyes peer up at him, brown, blue, and green. Kei's best friend since the third grade lifts an eyebrow up at him with a mix of disapproval and amusement. "Well, look who's here," Yamaguchi says, and all Kei can do is glance at Kageyama, who looks more than a little guilty.

"This does happen to be my apartment," Kei responds, taking a step back to, hopefully, the security of his own bedroom. "Despite whatever Kageyama has been telling you."

There's no such thing, Yamaguchi's grip holds strong. "Well, it wasn't your apartment last night, how did it go? I mean we can only speculate where you went but-"

"I-I it's always been pretty obvious." Yachi continues for him.

Kei can only shoot Kageyama a withering glare. "You told them?"

"This wouldn't be an issue if you were answering your stupid phone." he hisses, taking a sip of soda from a plastic cup. "They can't be stopped, you know that."

Kei grits his teeth. "My phone died! Why didn't you tell them I joined a cult or something?"

Kageyama huffs and Yamaguchi laughs. "We wouldn't have believed him anyway." his grip finally goes slack on Kei's arm. "Sit down Tsukki, everything went well, right?"

Kei complies, reaching for the nearly empty oven-dish that lies in the center of them. No one says no to Yachi's lasagna. "What makes you think that?" he says, shoving a forkful into his mouth.

It's chicken, and quite delicious, that's probably what distracts Kei. "It's seven pm and you look like you've slept plenty? Kuroo-san's social media?" Yamaguchi replies with a shrug, holding his phone out to Kei. He already knows what he's being shown, though, Kuroo asked him for a photo before he left and Kei wasn't going to say no. 

"W-we were a bit freaked out," Yachi admits, gesturing towards the lasagna. "T-then he posted that."

There's nothing overt about the picture, Kuroo has an arm around Kei's shoulders and he's grinning widely. Kei has this little half-smile on his face that he knows came from something rather dirty the other saw fit to whisper in his ear. Still, everyone in this room knows him well enough to understand the implications behind it.

Kei sighs, just as Yamaguchi smiles, wide and bright. "I'm so glad you finally told him Tsukki!" he says, as Kei hears the toilet flush and the faucet begin running. "You're soulmates, after all, it was bound to work out!" And Kei doesn't pay any mind to the sounds, because who could be in the bathroom? It's probably just Tadashi's punk boyfriend.

"YOU WERE KUROO-SAN'S SOULMATE THIS WHOLE TIME!!!?"

_Fuck_.

Fuck, _no_.

_Fuck, Hinata._

Kei turns around to look towards the corridor, where, there is indeed a ginger standing, stunned and almost vibrating with excitement. "DOES KENMA KNOW ALREADY!? I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT LITTLE-" He begins pulling out the phone from his pocket, and Kei almost lets him.

Kenma is Kuroo's best friend, Kenma's sure to tell him, and even if he manages to convince Kuroo that it's a misunderstanding, he definitely would-

The next thing that happens goes in the book of things Kei will always deny ever having done. 

Mostly because he doesn't even manage to topple Hinata over completely -damn his stability-, and though he does stop the call from being made, he ends up awkwardly perched over the ginger, almost straddling him. "You're not telling anyone anything, you doofus!" He finds himself yelling.

"HEY WHAT THE FUCK!?" And then one of those grabby little hands is tugging at his hair and there's a lot more screaming, and Tadashi is dragging him away from Hinata. 

"ARE YOU FIVE? WE DON'T TACKLE PEOPLE TSUKKI!" he's yelling, then more softly. "Tsukki, what's going on?" And Kei just looks er at his hand and heaves a relieved sigh when he sees it. That, however, seems to be enough for Tadashi. "Oh no-" his eyes widen, and then he breathes out in warning. "Tsukki!"

Kei can only glance at where Kageyama has wrapped all his limbs around Hinata to keep the ginger back. "Hey! Crazyshima! Gimme back my phone! I'll fight ya!"

Oh god, Kei can't believe what he's about to do, but it's the only thing he can do, other than shove Hinata in a crate end ship him off to somewhere without cell reception, or other media of communication.

He shakes Tadashi's grip off and steps forward, face as serious as he can make it. "Listen, Kuroo is my soulmate." he bites his lip. "But he doesn't know, I haven't told him, and you can't tell anyone!" He meets Hinata's rage-filled eyes. "Please?"

There's a second of stunned silence filling the room, whether it be because of the way Kei just asked of the implications of his admission. That is until Hinata explodes. "LIKE HELL I WILL! THAT'S TOTALLY UNFAIR, JUST WHO DO YOU THINK YOU-"

And that's enough, this all may not be Kuroo's fault but he wanted to do the right thing, he still- "I was going to tell him, you human traffic cone! Last night!" He roars. "I still- I need- No one else can tell him! It should be me!"

Hinata blinks at him, once, twice. "Then you better explain what the hell is going on." He says through gritted teeth.

Kei looks around the room, att he four pair s of eyes staring at him. He sits back down, reaching for his lasagna to shove more in his mouth. If he's doing this, he might as well do it while eating something nice.

.

.

**_FROM: TSUKKI <3-20:15_ **

_Got home fine._

_Sorry I took a while_

_The other idiots are here_

**_FROM: ME-20:19_ **

_Don't worry Moonshine._

_I know! Kenma's here!_

_You had them worried, why didn't u just ask for my charger?_

_Have fun!_

_(dinner sometime this week?)_

**_FROM: TSUKKI <3-20:24_ **

_Yeah, they were at Hinata’s mum’s_

_Honestly, it didn’t even cross my mind_

_Apparently, they were this close to start calling hospitals._

_Why are they like this?_

_(Wednesday?)_

**_FROM: ME-20:29_ **

_Ah, so I’m that good?_

_‘Cuz they care about you, disappearing acts suck_

_(I’d have called your mom, be thankful you were with me)_

_(Sure, I know this cute restaurant...)_

Tetsuro turns over on the bed, eyes meeting his best friend's sharp ones.

Kenma's style hasn't changed much from high school, if anything the hoodies have gotten baggier, and the trainers have been switched out for crocs. "Don't give me that sparkly look-" Kenma huffs. "-save that for Tsukishima."

Tetsuro just laughs, giddy and warm, the room still smells a little like Tsukishima. "Can't help it, I'm stuck like this now." He beams, rolling back over as Kenma hooks up all the cables of the console he's brought. "Besides, you're the one that came all the way over here without telling anyone."

From where he's crouched in front of the TV, Kenma shrugs. "Shouyo was feeling homesick, we were over at his parents for the past three weeks." 

The expression on his face doesn't change all that much, but Tetsuro knows him well enough. "And how was that Kitty?" he asks, a smirk already spreading over his face.

"The signal over there sucks." Kenma sulks, looking away, lips pinched in mock-annoyance. "Shouyo doesn't really see the problem, but at least Natsu agrees with me."

"Ohhh, the little sister, she likes you know?" Tetsuro asks, propping himself up on his elbows. "I seem to recall there being a lot of drama before."

Kenma rolls his eyes at him. "She was at _that_ age. Soulmate rabies, you know how teenagers get." he huffs. "Now she thinks I'm neat."

Tetsuro purses his lips. "You bribed her with store credits to that dress up game she likes, didn't you?"

"Bribe is a strong word." Kenma chuckles walking back to the bed. "I'm just nice to her. And she gets free streaming too."

Tetsuro can't help but laugh, he feels so light, his phone buzzes with a couple messages from Tsukishima and he smiles down at it. "You're bribing your boyfriend's little sister, shame!" His best friend of most of his life gives Tetsuro an answering laugh, a lot more energetic than he's used to from Kenma. "Hey! You're just as shiny as I am! What happened?"

Kenma fiddles with the controls for a second, face lit up by blue-purple light. "He's not my boyfriend anymore." He says with a small half-smile.

It takes Tetsuro a couple of breaths, he jumps to the wrong conclusion first, but it doesn't feet, it doesn't- and then Kenma looks like the cat that got the cream... Or the crow, he supposes. "KENNNN!"

It ends with them on the floor in a tangle of limbs, even Kenma's patented sour face can't quite hide the purely blissful smile behind it. "There's not gonna be any wedding if you choke me Kuro!" He pants out, tugging softly at Tetsuro's shirt.

"I'm the best man, aren't I?" He asks, not letting go, not for a little more.

"No," Kenma growls, annoyed. "It's Taketora."

That makes Tetsuro dissolve into a fit of giggles, so long that his belly hurts and by the end of it Kenma already has disentangled himself from his grip and gotten back on the bed. "Are you going to help me test this out? Or should I get someone else to help me test the unreleased ones?"

.

.

So he kind of sees Hinata's point.

But he also sort of feels like he just made a bit of a deal with the devil, a very orange one. Apparently, the ginger is willing to keep this from Kenma... until they say their vows or whatever, and then the gloves come off and Kei ends up looking like even more of an ass than he already is.

In a way, it's good, he figures, anything's preferable to Kuroo finding out like that. So this way he can't chicken out and he has a relatively clear deadline.

And now, he just has to find a moment, a way to say it. And since planning, and deciding, and psyching himself up haven't worked out, he has decided to just say it, when the time is right he'll just open his rebellious mouth and speak.

Maybe the time will be tonight.

Kei hasn’t felt the need to take his pills the past couple of days, what’s the point now?

He spends a ridiculously long time fixing his hair, picking a shirt and jeans. The whole thing is just ridiculous, what's he going to do, kiss Kuroo and say: "I know I've been lying to you for seven years but I really love you and I know you like me in blue"?

Somehow the song playing from his phone fits, just figures it would.

_It's hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands_

_I'm just so bad at things I don't understand_

_As if I'm not even close_

_I think I'm further than most_

For a second, he almost goes to Kageyama to complain about it, but Kageyama isn't even here, hasn't been here very often the past few days, and god knows what he's been doing.

Not that Kei blames him. 

In fact, if he disappears to some island to meditate until the wedding, and then only shows up as best man when the vows are being said, Kei won't blame him, at all.

God, why is he agreeing with Hinata on anything? Or taking cues from him? The ginger is definitely one of the more oblivious people Kei has ever met.

He glances at the clock on the wall, it's almost eight, he better get going.

The restaurant that Kuroo picked is a little on the fancy side, but Kei has read a bunch of extremely nice things about it.

And the Tiramisu.

The Uber is waiting on him right outside, and there's a little giddy fire ignited in his belly.

.

.

Tsukishima Kei is cute.

No, he's not just cute, he's the cutest. A glare is directed at him, so it seems Tsukishima caught him staring.

And alright, Tetsuro's staring like some sort of fool in love, but then, that's what he is.

And he's not going to ignore the way the nice, silky looking teal shirt that does wonders for his boyfriend's shapely shoulders. And the light-wash skinny jeans he's wearing... yeah. His boyfriend looks gorgeous and he's damn well going to stare.

"I'm not taking you down to the hospital if your eyes pop out of your head." The blond says after swallowing a mouthful of ravioli, with a smug smirk of his own. "I mean that."

Tetsuro chuckles. "I can't help it, the view is fantastic." Tsukishima's cheeks go pink and he grins wider. "It would be impolite not to stare."

The blond's eyes drop down to the plate. "Well, I'll have the decency to not stare for the both of us," he grumbles, picking ups some more pasta. 

"I love your roundabout compliments." Tetsuro takes a sip of his wine, reveling on how Tsukishima chokes a little. "Really adds to the Tsundere vibe."

"That was not-" he huffs, free hand balling up beside his own wine glass. "You're lucky this ravioli is really good."

Tetsuro just laughs at that, poking at his own food, that is, really, just as good as Tsukishima just made it seem. And even then he feels almost a little too happy to eat. This softer Tsukishima is not only enchanting but also fun to watch.

Truly, he expected a bit more reluctance, having known the blond for a good fourth of his life. But aside from his usual snaky demeanor that Tetsuro wouldn't change for the world, the blond has been almost eager. Like he's reveling in being honest about things. He's told Tetsuro about the years they didn't have contact, about Kageyama, even about the fact that his mother apparently met her soulmate not long ago and they became fast friends.

It's sweet. 

Somewhat strange, but still...

After Tsukishima finishes his own dessert and half of Tetsuro's, he stretches back, arms going over his head, a small part of the edge of his shirt is untucked and it rides up exposing a sliver of skin. Suddenly his mouth is very, very dry. And then his eyes meet those golden ones. "I don't suppose this restaurant is only coincidentally close to your apartment?" There's mischief, and want, and heat in those eyes.

Tetsuro's heart skips a beat, but he's trying to play the cool one, he's supposed to be the cool one. "I might just not know the city too well." he swirls the wine in his glass, even as his cheeks heat up. "I've walked past here sometimes, it seemed cute." That much is the truth, it also meant he could drink, as he didn't have to bring the car around.

Tsukishima purses his lips into a disappointed pout. "Well, if that's really the only reason..." he drawls, a look on his face that borders on innocence.

"You're a real menace, you know?" Tetsuro says after the coughing fit subsides. "You were already too sexy without the flirting."

The blond narrows his eyes at him. "You're embarrassing."

"Aww, but it's true Tsukki!" He says, slipping a couple bills in the small leather case that they got their bill brought in before Tsukishima can try. "You can take the next one," he says, waving it off. "And I won't mind if you want to walk me home like a good boyfriend."

It's obvious that Tsukishima tries to keep glaring at him, but there's a small, fond lift to the left corner of his mouth. "Really? Want me to tuck you in too?"

Dry mouthed, heart pounding, palms feeling conspicuously sweaty, Tetsuro can't help but admire the whole scene. "Yeah, that too," he says a little dumbly. "You're really pretty when you're smug."

There's a high-pitched squeak 

as Tsukishima pushes the chair back, standing to full height in an almost intimidating way, would be, if he wasn't also blushing crimson. "Let's go then, I'm sure they need the table.

And Tetsuro can only follow.

.

.

Kei steals a cigarette off of Kuroo's box as soon as they leave the restaurant.

He's not nervous, not really. If there's going to be a time, this isn't it, so he just smokes because he can, because he's giddy, and because he really, really shouldn't.

-he _is_ a professional athlete, after all-

It's all, really, very romantic, the amber streetlights and the empty streets, it's a nice little residential neighborhood. Just new enough to seem safe, just old enough to be picturesque, and just a twenty minute walk from Kuroo's apartment.

And Kuroo, Kuroo is the most romantic thing of them all. In the literal sense of the word too, he's wearing actual, expensive-looking slacks and dress shoes that make Kei think all sorts of things that even he hasn't before. The shirt he wears is a deep purple, and it sets off the golden flecks in his hazel eyes, giving them a slightly feline quality, especially when they're narrowed and fixed on Kei.

"What do you want for your birthday?" The older man blurts out beside him, hands behind his head, cigarette dangling from his lips.

Kei snorts. "My birthday is in like-" 

"A month." Kuroo completes. " Twenty-four days, to be exact. So, what do you want?" he asks.

"You don't have-"

Kuroo huffs. "I have a very pretty boyfriend, I want to."

He's blunt, and as Kei glances at him, has the widest, most adorable grin to have ever existed. it's not like Kei wants a gift, or needs it, or thinks that he and Kuroo are still going to be together by then. He finishes his cigarette, then, without giving himself any time to second guess it, whirls around and grabs Kuroo's shoulder.

And then kisses the hell out of him. 

The man's mouth is hot and welcoming, the aftertaste of the cigarette barely a bitter not as it is overpowered by the delicious way he opens up to Kei. The cigarette clatters to the ground, Kuroo's, Kei's, whatever. His hand finds Kuroo's waist, the other one making Kuroo's jaw tilt upwards as he takes control.

Just as a drop of water lands right where their noses are brushing.

And another, and another.

Well, it _is_ technically autumn by now. Kei pulls back and has only a couple of seconds to stare at Kuroo's hooded eyes and their dazed expression before it's pouring in earnest.

But it's fine, it's all fine, Kuroo leans up and kisses him again, sucking Kei's bottom lip into his mouth. Then he's grabbing Kei's hand and they start running. The older man laughs, so loud that to Keis ears he almost muffles out the downpour.

They're running through the rain like they're in a stupid romantic comedy. And it's perfect.

By the time they get to the apartment, though it's five measly minutes, they're already both soaked. It's not particularly cold yet though, so Kei doesn't care, or maybe he's that riled up by the whole 'skipping through the rain' thing. Whichever it is, Kuroo seems to be in much the same position, because he doesn't even wait until the door is completely closed before he stats guiding Kei to the master bathroom, lips glued to his throat, sucking at it in a way that makes it really hard for him to think even a little coherently. "Let's take a shower yeah?" he says, throwing the door open.

And Kei's already almost out of his ridiculously skinny, wet jeans when he turns around, glasses long since tossed on top of Kuroo's bed. So who's too eager? He probably doesn't look half as sexy as he feels anyways. Kuroo doesn't seem to mind either, by the time Kei does manage to rescue his left foot from the jeans, he's naked and stretching into the shower cubicle to turn on the shower.

There's something about the position, he takes a second to ogle before his hands find Kuroo's hips, sliding down to cup both his cheeks. "Tetsuro-" 

The older man groans, long and hard. "You're dangerous." He bucks back against Kei, soft skin brushing over where Kei's cock is hanging, hard and heavy between his legs.

"You're the one standing like that." Kei hums, retreating his hands only to let his soaked shirt slip from them and to the floor. Kuroo, apparently, takes the chance to sneak his hand past the shower's glass door and come back with a small bottle. "Water's still not warm enough," He groans as Kei's hand comes up to grip at his hard member.

Kuroo half turns in his arms, only to give Kei a cheeky grin as he holds the bottle out to him. "Well, make the most of it," he winks at Kei, pushing his ass up and out.

Arousal twists in Kei's gut, he takes the lube bottle from his boyfriend's hand almost reverently. "Are you sure?" he asks softly, only for Kuroo to laugh, deep and low, pressing a short kiss to Kei's lips from the awkward angle they're in.

"I want anything with you," he says, somehow managing to sound dashing and not ridiculous at all. "And you know I've bottomed before."

Kei chuckles. "And I'm the menace." he huffs. 

The shower water is already hot, he knows because they're surrounded by steam on all sides now. 

Through all this Kei has done his best to be honest with Kuroo, at least with everything else but the soulmate thing, it's probably the guilt for being such a coward. Kuroo now knows things about Kei that literally no one else does, and he has responded in kind. So he knows Kuroo has bottomed before, _once_...

Which is why he goes slow, reveling in the way the older man shivers under his touch, the muscles under the tanned skin growing tense and taut as Kei kisses it up and down. 

"Fuck, Kei." Kuroo groans, as slick fingers probe at the sensitive place between his cheeks. "C'mon, I'm so hard."

The wave of predatory possessiveness that washes over him is overwhelming, Kei slides his finger in, soft and slow, mouth latched to the base of Kuroo's trapezius. If he talks right now he might say something completely embarrassed and. 

"I can't wait, Tsukki, you feel too good inside me." He keens, and Kei oses it, he starts slowly jerking Kuroo off, matching the strokes to the pumping of his fingers in and out of Kuroo's hole. And Kuroo isn't shy, he moans, he whimpers, he begs Kei to go faster, voice echoing lewdly off the tiled walls.

By the time he works the other up to four fingers, Kei's skin is crawling with need, with want. 

Kuroo leans his head back on Kei's shoulder. "You're the most amazing thing ever." he groans. "Now make love to me or I'm going to explode."

Kei pulls back completely, his face, his fingers, then gently, oh so gently turns Kuroo around, hands on the man's hips. And he pushes the other man into the cubicle and under the stream of water. 

.

.

His back hits the tiled wall, it's warm from how long the water has been hitting it. And if Tsukishima wasn't looking at Tetsuro with eyes so full of feeling, he would really be concerned for his water bill.

Tetsuro's breath gets caught in his throat, his hands find Tsukishima's trim waist, pulling the other close. "Enthralled by my stunning good looks?"

That causes a little narrowing of the blond's eyes. Now they're flush against each other, both of their erections trapped between them, sending sparks racing up Tetsuro's skin. "Stop it with the smugness." he huffs.

"Well, I am, you're the most beautiful person," Tetsuro says, fondness filling him as he leans up to kiss that little furrow in Tsukishima's nose. "Ever."

One of the blond's hands rises to cup his jaw, tilt it up. "I think I love you too." Tsukishima breathes into Tetsuro's mouth.

And Tetsuro feels faint, his arms come up to circle Tsukishima's neck, a silent request. And the blond understands.

The water that pelts down on both of them is almost warm enough to scald, but neither really minds as they get out of the way enough for Tsukishima to slick himself up and help Tetsuro lift a leg and hook it over his left hip. It's a bit of an awkward position, but they make it work. 

Tetsuro has to cling a lot, with his arms, with his mouth on Tsukishima's deltoid as he pushes in slowly, gasping Tetsuro's name. 

Until he's perfectly filled and crying out, pushing down against Tsukishima with such eagerness that they almost end up on the floor several times. It's funny that the blond actually has to grab Tetsuro's hips, hard. "Slow down, Tetsu." He groans as Tetsuro clenches around him.

"Mmm but it feels so good." Tetsuro groans, feeling a little out of his mind as Tsukishima stills in all but his hand, pumping up and down his length, those piercing eyes keeping Tetsuro pinned.

"Tetsu, behave," he says, low, and so comfortable that Tetsuro has to take a deep breath to not come.

Tetsuro looks up at him with pleading eyes. "Please move," he whines, and it seems to soften Kei a little. 

He smiles softly and caresses Tetsuro's face, from his jaw to his lips. "Alright," he says, leaning down to capture his lips as he thrusts in, hard and decisive, building a steady rhythm from the start. Tetsuro's head bangs on the wall as he throws it, from the pure pleasure radiating over his body.

It's rapture, it's an overtaking, Tetsuro can only bury his nose in Tsukishima's skin breathing in the warmth as they meld into one being. By the time he comes, he's shaking, legs so unsteady that Tsukishima needs to keep his hands on Tetsuro's hips just to make sure.

Just to make sure.

.

.

Kei wakes up in warm, tanned arms, a little cold, and feeling like his head might hurt if he were to move. He looks up at Kuroo, with his long lashes, his messy hair, and his stupid plump lips. 

It's still not late enough for it to be fully light out yet. Kei wonders what woke him up, there's a little bit of an ache in the back of his throat. Maybe it's that.

Love, pure and overwhelming fills his heart, makes it blow up like a balloon.

Before his birthday. 

This has to happen before his birthday. 

He shivers, sneezing softly into the blanket before cuddling closer, and mouthing a soft apology against Kuroo's chest as he drifts back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all didn't think I'd make it /that/ easy, right? There's still some tangling to do before we untangle.   
> That said, I wrote two sex scenes, wow.  
> I would really love to know what you thought of this one... You comments make my days!
> 
> Love, love, love, Kyrye


	7. You didn't even see (the signs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coincidences! Illness! Divine intervention? Nothing ever goes as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one. People, This one. Has been my favorite chapter to write so far (although the next one may yet knock it to the side, I have plans). But really, I love this thing , I do recommend to use the playlist now, for the mood.  
> You all have been so supportive, thank you!

**Autumn 2019**

Kageyama and his beady little eyes are staring.

Like really, I'll-drag-you-into-the-dark eyes. If Tsukishima is to be believed, the setter is just being a little protective -" also, he has no social skills" was what he said earlier when asked- but Tetsuro can feel those eyes drilling into him from the kitchen, where the other currently is, making a protein shake.

He's freaked out, a little jealous, and entirely too warm and comfortable to do anything about it.

Tsukishima is lying on top of him on the couch, half on his chest. His left cheek is smooshed over Tetsuro's left pec, and under the blanket, he's wearing frog pajamas, official Sendai Frogs merch that Tetsuro procured for the blond just last week. Their legs are tangled together and spilling out the other end of the couch. It is absolutely adorable.

The screen in front of them is playing some random action movie with a very predictable plot.

He can't help the silly, smitten little smile that surely spreads over his face.

Being with Tsukishima is everything he ever thought it would be, and more, and it's barely been a week, if it gets any better he might self combust, or maybe his heart will be so full it'll burst.

One of his hands rises, to drag his fingers through His boyfriend's silk-soft, barley-hued hair, thumb brushing over the flush on his cheeks.

He's warm.

He's _so_ warm.

He's _too_ warm.

And for the past three days, his boyfriend has been saying he's definitely not coming down with a cold. But Tetsuro knows a fever when he feels one.

A glance at the clock -a volleyball, what else?- tells him it's late enough that they both should be going to sleep if they want to be functioning adults tomorrow. And since Tetsuro's bed is halfway across the city, he really, really should get going.

He presses his thumb a little more firmly to Tsukishima's cheek, drifting down to his plump, pink lower lip. "Kei, moonshine, c'mon, let's get you to bed." He hums softly, lips brushing the crown of the blond's head.

The blond stirs, brow furrowing slightly but his eyes don't open. "M'good here Tetsu, go to sleep," he mumbles into Tetsuro's chest.

"I'm not letting you sleep here moonshine," Tetsuro huffs, now stroking over the lobe of Tsukishima's ear. "Not when you're clearly coming down with something." He's a better boyfriend than that, thank you very much. He's not letting Tsukishima get pneumonia or something on his watch.

A little, dissatisfied sound rumbles out of Tsukishima's chest, his arms tighten around Tetsuro's torso. "I don't get sick." A golden orb opens just a crack and peers up at him. "And we're already warm right here." he sniffs a little. "You getting too old to sleep on the sofa?"

Tetsuro huffs out a laugh. "Actually, yes." He says, slowly sitting up, much to Tsukishima's displeasure. The blond groans. "And c'mon, help me out. You're a professional athlete, I can try to carry you, but if I throw out my back you're driving me to the hospital."

There's some grumbling, long arms shift from his torso to around his shoulders, sleepy Tsukishima is a huge baby, and apparently, sick Tsukishima is all that times two. "You don't have pajamas." The blond says when they're walking down the corridor to his room. "There are some in the third drawer to the right," he grumbles, sleepily burying his warm face in the crook of Tetsuro's neck.

It's sweet, completely impractical but sweet. If he does this, Tetsuro's going to have to get up extra early so he can get some work-appropriate clothes in the morning. He lowers Tsukishima slowly on the bed. Those golden eyes are soft, a little glassy and unfocused, and his hands cling to Tetsuro's back. "Are you asking me to stay the night, Tsukki?" Tetsuro asks, teasing.

And where a snarky comeback would usually be, Tsukishima pouts. "I mean it, you're warm." he curls into himself, bringing lean legs up to his chest. 

Fuck, if the blond were a little more willing to use that face on Tetsuro, he's sure it would be his downfall. "Alright, but you're taking something for that fever before we go to sleep." he concedes, leaning down to place a little kiss to the other's forehead. "And you're gonna need to pick a drawer for me if you want this to happen often."

Tetsuro turns to retrieve some soft-looking pajamas from the drawer that Tsukishima indicated, while the blond wiggles under the blankets, lifting them way up to his ears. "Well, pick one," he mumbles 

"Really?" Tetsuro asks, a little surprised, true, they didn't go the way most couples do, but that seems a little fast.

"Really" Tsukishima shivers, visibly curling in on himself under the covers. "H'rry up."

"Alright, alright," Tetsuro responds simply. "Where do you keep your meds?"

"Mmm, bathroom cabinet." Tsukishima mumbles. "I think."

Luckily, when Tetsuro comes out, Kageyama has long since skulked off to his room. It's not that he doesn't feel bad for the other, the whole Kenma and Hinata situation is just... a perfect example for the many reasons Tetsuro isn't fond of the soulmate thing, and it definitely sucks. But he's also been a bit unnerving since he and Tsukishima got together, this is only the second time that Tetsuro has come into this apartment, and well... it's a little awkward.

He grabs the last pill from a ratty, old-looking bottle and fills a glass with water, then walks back to the room where bloodshot amber eyes peer up at him from above the edge of the fuzzy blanket. "How are you not sick too? We both got soaked the other day," he pouts, even as he accepts the glass of water and the pill from Tetsuro. "Get in here, I'm freezing."

"I'm glad to get the germs from you, don't worry." Tetsuro grins at him from where he's slipping his feet into the pajamas. "Aye, aye sir." He purrs, enormously fond, slipping into bed beside his boyfriend's warm body.

.

.

Soft fingers are brushing over his cheekbones, feeling at his pulse. 

If it weren't for them, Kei would be in hell.

That's an overstatement.

But he _doesn't_ get colds, he doesn't, until now, apparently. A week into his first serious relationship when he should really be enjoying his boyfriend to the fullest.

He opens his eyes, finding Kuroo's face in the dimness of pre-dawn.

Even through the shivering, Kei smiles. Yeah, Kuroo's plenty enjoyable. He leans up, heavy arms dragging through the air, which feels cold and somewhat thick, to wrap around his boyfriend's neck and lean up for a kiss. 

Kuroo does indulge him for a bit before pulling away, warm lips pressing sweetly to Kei's before they're pulled away completely. There's a little wrinkle on the bridge of his nose that Kei tries to pull himself up to kiss. Kuroo stops him, one of those strong hands pushing at Kei's shoulder then sucks on his own bottom lip. "Kei, baby, you have a fever." He whispers. Kei knows, he's freezing and the back of his head throbs, he only wants for Kuroo to hold him tight, that has been helping with the cold just fine. "I'm going to go get you some medicine, ok? Do you want me to call your coach?" 

Kei lets his body drop back on the bed, it's so cold outside of the covers, the air feels like molasses, and his skin prickles with discomfort. "I should go, we can't slack-" He grumbles, though he only half-believes himself, somehow doing any sort of moving-jumping-volleyball-playing doesn't seem like something that he's capable of in his current state.

"Moonshine-" Kuroo starts, a small warning in his voice.

"Ugh, fine call him," Kei whimpers, shivering and clutching the blankets tighter to his chest. "Do you have to go this early?" He's feeling like es been iced over somehow, and Kuroo's warm body spooning him would be an amazing balm for it right now.

The older man hums, eyes so tender Kei almost forgets that he feels like shit at the moment, if only for a couple of seconds. "I'm going to go get you some proper medicine," he repeats. "And then I do have to go to work, but I'll be back in the afternoon, ok?"

Kei will never admit it, but he makes this small, sad, whine-like sound as he sinks into the bed again, feeling terribly congested. Kuroo drops on the edge of it, a tender hand threading through Kei's hair. He leans down to brush his lips over Kei's, a bedhead even worse than usual tickling his forehead. "Be good, love you, babe."

He thinks he mumbles it back, but by the time the warm weight leaves the edge of his bed Kei has already slipped into a deep, uneasy sleep.

The next time he wakes up, it's to find that the throbbing in the back of his head has evolved to a pounding in all of his head, especially behind his eyes, and his nose feels so clogged he has to breathe through his mouth to not feel like he's suffocating in his own snot

From the light coming in through the curtains, he can tell it's mid-morning, but not much more. 

There's something violently hot pink in his nightstand that catches his eye, a large bottle of pills, a glass of water, and stuck tot he side of the pill bottle, a pink sticky note from the stack that Kei keeps on his desk.

_Take some when you wake up._

_And text me._

_There's some breakfast in the fridge if you feel up for it._

_Stay warm._

_< 3 Tetsuro_

Gods, if he didn't feel so shitty, Kei would be dying at how caring Kuroo is, especially when he would be hiding behind a surgical mask and god knows what else to keep from getting sick.

Fuck, Kuroo is nice, Kuroo is sweet. Kuroo bought him medicine and made him breakfast when he had to get to work by eight. 

**_FROM: ME-10:25_ **

_Awake now_

_I'll try to get breakfast in a minute._

_Thank you for all this._

_You don't have to come over tonight._

_I'll get my germs all over you._

**_FROM: KUROO TETSURO :3- 10:27_ **

_Did you take some medicine?_

_Remember to at least stay hydrated._

_That's a nasty one, and it's been building for days._

_Nah, I'm made of stronger stuff._

_Also, I'm not leaving you like that._

_(besides, sick, clingy Kei is very adorable)_

_See you in the afternoon moonshine, stay warm._

Yeah, too sweet, too perfect.

And Kei's lying to him. 

He sighs, padding over to the kitchen, while he swallows a knot at his throat and hoping Kuroo made something soft. He hates being sick, hates it so much.

.

.

Tetsuro has been pretty sure he's in love for quite a while now, but if he hadn't been, the sight that greets him would definitely confirm it.

Now, objectively Tsukishima wrapped in a dark red fleece blanket with an equally dark red nose and ears, looking like the most miserable human being on the planet shouldn't be such an adorable sight.

But he looks up at Tetsuro with bloodshot eyes and smiles a little right before he starts sneezing like there's no tomorrow. "I'm going to get you sick." He croaks, from where he's curled up on the edge of the couch. "You already slept with my germs last night, Kuroo."

"Bah, I'll take your germs." Tetsuro huffs, walking over to lay the takeout bags on the dining table and rest his backpack and a couple of laundry bags on one of the chairs. Then he turns around to lean over the back of the couch and wrap his arms around Tsukishima. "Have you eaten? I got you some spicy ramen, it should get you warm."

The blond rubs his cheek against Tetsuro's giving him a thankful glance. "I really will make you sick," he grumbles, melting further into the sofa. "But thank you I didn't have lunch."

Tetsuro frowns at him. "Tsukki!"

“I slept through it,” Tsukishima explains with a shrug. “I haven’t done anything _but_ sleep, I feel like hell.”

If he weren’t wearing a suit, Tetsuro would be leaping over the back of the couch. As it is, he carefully walks around it and sits down beside Tsukishima, who, despite his earlier protests, curls up into him, blanket and all. Tetsuro lifts a hand to one of the blond's cheeks. “You don’t seem to have a fever.” He says. 

“I just took one of those pills,” Tsukishima says. “Are you sure about being here? you have to get ready for your trip.”

Tetsuro laughs. “Just did.” He points at the backpack and the laundry bags, “I went home and did up my suitcase, it’s not like I need that many clothes, I still have a few at my granny’s house.”

Tsukishima looks up at him through glassy eyes. “Weren’t you staying at Bokuto’s?”

“The last few days, yeah. It’s a lot closer, and we have Bo’s birthday. But the first two I’m staying at my grandparents, granny wants to feed me and they also need my help to sign up to some internet thing.”

“I see,” Tsukishima says, eyelids looking heavy.

“Do you want to come? I mean, if you’re better? I’m sure Bo would love to have you, and we can share a futon.” Tetsuro's brow furrows. "You could meet them too, they're sweet."

That head of silky blond hair tilts back, a pair of amber eyes scrutinize Tetsuro's face. "Do you really want me to meet-"

"I mean, only if you want to, if not we can just go straight too Bo's," Tetsuro hurries to say, rubbing a soothing hand over Tsukishima's shoulder. "No pressure, Tsukki, if you think it's going too fast it's-"

It's strange, the way it feels as those piercing eyes trail over his face, almost like Tetsuro has gotten close to something, something scary. "I know you're not pressuring me, you don't pressure me nearly enough," Tsukishima says, in a voice that almost manages to sound bitter for a second.

Tetsuro just looks at him, brow furrowed as he tries to make sense of the statement. "What do you mean by that Tsukki?" he asks, eyeing the dark red of the tip of Tsukishima's nose and his ears.

The blond's eyes are pleading for a second, so sad that Tetsuro wants to wrap him up in his arms and never let him go. But then those eyelids flutter closed, Tsukishima sighs, then sags into Tetsuro's chest. And then he laughs a little with his hoarse voice. "I just mean you gave me so much space we almost didn't get together." he breathes out, the tension immediately leaving his shoulders.

Tetsuro leans in too, tilting his chin up to rest it on top of Tsukishima's head. "Wow, you really are sick." he huffs, encircling the other with his arms. "I guess I could've been more assertive, but we're here now, aren't we?"

And Tsukishima shivers a little, sniffing, so Tetsuro reaches over him to the tissue box on the armrest, plucking a couple and handing them to his extremely congested boyfriend. Tsukishima blows his nose, looking quite miserable. "I guess," Tsukishima answers, cuddling closer into him. "I'll be happy to meet them if you still want me to."

"Of course I want you to," Tetsuro says, rubbing a hand up and down Tsukishima's back. "C'mon, let's get something warm in you ok? Sick you is awfully clingy, I'm taking pictures."

There's a displeased grunt but Tsukishima curls in closer, and he just laughs, trying to figure out a way to get the ramen to them without letting go of his big baby of a boyfriend.

.

.

So Kei may be the dead kind of sick person, a mostly useless ball of suffering, and snot, and antihistaminics.

But for all he complained, Kuroo is worse. 

Because apparently, he's the kind that stubbornly pushes onward even though he's clearly dying. 

After a lot of bickering that almost became a fight and Kuroo swallowing an inordinate amount of antihistaminics, Kei had to relent, so here they are, lining up to buy some sort of special conserve that Kuroo's grandma enjoys. Kei did offer to come alone but apparently even the fact that he's so pale he's almost yellow and can't breathe through his nose is not going to be stopping Kuroo Tetsuro at all.

At least Kei feels better, after three days of literal hell now he's only lightly congested. "I told you you'd get my germs," Kei grumbles when Kuroo leans his warm forehead on his shoulder. "You really should change your train tickets."

"'M fine." Kuroo huffs, warm breath fanning over his chin. "Granny already bought stuff for my welcome lunch. 'M not gonna flake on them and besides, what's really going to be hard are the meetings, and I have to go to those, sick or not."

All Kei can do as the couple in front of them steps into the store is tug up the hood of Kuroo's sweater and stuff the whole bird's nest that is his boyfriend's hair under it. "Sick you is unbelievable." He grumbles, tugging Kuroo closer, glancing in a worried manner at the dark, dark circles under the man's eyes. "I'm erasing all the pictures you took."

Kuroo frowns up at him from under the hood, hazel eyes narrowing in annoyance. "You can't do that," he groans. "But you can take photos, I'll pose."

"How do you manage to be so-" Kei hisses as they finally, finally pull up to the front of the line. The mall AC is way too cold, autumn is barely starting and it's probably warmer outside. "You've been running a fever for two days straight."

"Tsukki, it's just a little cold, it's not my fault you get all spoiled." The older man huffs, tugging at the knot of his tie that's almost hidden by the hoodie Kei brought him so he wouldn't freeze after work.

Finally, they are waved at to go through to the tiny store with all the jars lining the walls and the fairy lights bouncing off from them. Kuroo trudges up to the register, while Kei just looks around, and keeps an eye on his slightly swaying, hunched-looking boyfriend. Now he's glad he didn't tell Kuroo bout the whole thing when he was dying on Wednesday, the older man would have been not only heartbroken but dying of a virus that _Kei_ infected him with.

And wouldn't that have been an awful, awful thing?

An arm wraps around his shoulders, heavy and thick, when he speaks, Kuroo's voice is raw and scratchy. "I got you some berry spread." The older man says. "Let's go."

Kei just slips an arm around the older man's waist, his other hand rising to fleetingly brush over Kuroo's forehead. "You're burning up." He sighs, taking the bag of conserves from Kuroo's hand as they walk towards the parking lot. "Slow down a little," he says. "If you get sicker I'm not taking the blame for it."

"I'm fine Tsukki!" Kuroo hums. "But I can be spoiled like you if you want." He groans, throwing his head back. "I'm so cold and I want cuddles!" He mock-yells, throwing his arms around Kei, "Take care of me Tsukki."

It tears a short peal of laughter from Kei's throat, and he can only throw a spare blanket on Kuroo's lap as they reach the car.

.

.

**_FROM: TSUKKI <3 -09:41_ **

_You left your black hoodie._

_Did Bokuto pick you up?_

**_FROM: ME -09:45_ **

_So you'll remember me moonshine._

_I brought the green one :3 just for that_

_(but also cuz it's warm)_

_I'm waiting for him_

.

.

If Tetsuro didn't feel like yesterday's trash warmed over, he would probably explode with joy when Bokuto's ridiculously beefy arms come around him and nearly squeeze him breathless.

"BROOOO!" The owl pulls away slightly, the big grin on his face fading slightly. "Man, you look like hell, are you alright? Do we need to get you something?"

Tetsuro sniffs a little, feeling like only ten percent of his left nostril is actually working,-and isn't that like, really bad? He's getting less oxygen, right?-. "Some tissues would be nice Bo." He rasps out, as he and Bokuto begin to walk out of the train station, his small red suitcase in tow.

Bokuto looks at him through narrowed eyes. "Alright, go sit in the car, I'll buy you some. Anything else?"

"Some acetaminophen would be nice," Tetsuro says, taking the keys that Bokuto is offering. "And something salty, I feel like I can't smell anything and it's making me crazy."

The silver-haired man grins. "On it." He turns around. "And put on another layer or I'm telling your granny."

"BOOO! Snitch!" Tetsuro yells back, though t's more of a whine, and it triggers the biggest coughing fit of his life. People are even staring at him now, and he wishes he remembered to bring a mask, he's coughing like some diseased dog in the middle of a busy train station.

It's a relatively cold day, Tetsuro shivers and hurries forward to the parking lot where Bokuto usually leaves his car. The poor thing has probably seen better days. The Owl insists on driving to and from Osaka at least once a month to see Akaashi. Tetsuro loads the suitcase on the truck -though it really doesn't need that much space- and slips into the passenger seat with a wince. His head is pounding again.

He's peering up to see if Bokuto is coming with the acetaminophen when his phone buzzes.

**_FROM: TSUKKI <3-09:47_ **

_You're going to wear that thing in Tokyo?_

_(But yes, it is pretty warm)_

_I packed that bottle of pills you bought for me._

_Since it was half full and all._

_It's in the pocket on the back of your suitcase_

He almost leaps out of the car and for the trunk. He's at that point when it's hard to even be stubborn, no matter how uncool it looks. And at least no one's here to see him cradle the bottle of acetaminophen like its a newborn son. 

Thankfully there's still some water in his travel bottle, so he retrieves that too along with a jacket -he really doesn't put it past Bokuto to tell his grandma that Tetsuro was only wearing one sweater when he arrived- and slips back in the passenger seat.

**_FROM: ME-08:54_ **

_MY SAVIORRR!_

_I took it, thank u for caring Babe._

_And of course, I'm gonna wear it, I'm a true fan_

_Bo is getting me tissues and I'm already in the car._

_Also, I'm sure grandma has some of that stew for me :D_

**_FROM: TSUKKI <3-09:00_ **

_Well, if you don't mind looking like a traffic signal with messy hair..._

_I just packed some pills._

_But you're welcome._

_Stay warm._

_Uh, Kuroo_

Tetsuro frowns at the screen, at the little dots that appear and disappear one, two, three times, and then disappear. Then, with much noise, Bokuto barrels into the car arms laden with a lot me than tissues, pills, and chips. The silver-haired man shrugs when Tetsuro gives him a look. "The sandwiches were on offer, want one? You look like you need food to help fight that virus."

"I'll have you know that my very adorable boyfriend made me breakfast before I left." Tetsuro huffs, he doesn't feel like he can eat much anyways. So far this virus from hell hasn't upset his stomach but he kind of doesn't want to risk it. And Tsukishima made him mackerel, what could be sweeter? "I'll just have the chips, If I'm too full to eat when I get to granny's she might fill me up with a funnel." 

Bokuto rolls eyes that shine like new coins at him, all bustling energy, even in autumn he's wearing just a ridiculously tight t-shirt. "Think granny will have some for me too?"

"You know she does."

The car purrs under them, and Bokuto grins. "Didn't hurt to ask," he says. "Can I ask for details now or are you too sick? Because I'll have you know a bunch of bets are riding on this."

"You bet on if Kei and I would get together?" Tetsuro rasps, giving the other a withering look. "Not cool, bro."

"Hey, hey hey! Now, I always bet on you two getting together." He pouts. "You've liked him since forever, and I really should've heard the story by now."

Tetsuro throws his head back, the pounding in his head has dulled a little but not nearly enough, he pops another pill in his mouth as he tries to find the words. "So, he made the first move." He says, sniffing a little. "And I confessed, and then he caught a cold and decided to kill me with it."

Bokuto just laughs, loud and boisterous as they trudge through the slow-as-molasses traffic. "Details! I want details." And Tetsuro gives them, barring the more intimate things.

Because he may be sick as a dog, but he's with the man he has loved since before he thought he could even really fall in love and it's worth all the colds of hell he could catch and more.

Somewhere during the ride, his phone buzzes, but Tetsuro doesn't realize until much, much later.

**_FROM: TSUKKI <3-09:57_ **

_Can we talk for a bit when I get there?_

_I have something important to tell you._

_I'd rather we be alone for it._

.

.

"There! I sent it!" Kei slams his phone down on the table, face down while he himself is vibrating with stress. 

Across the table, two familiar pairs of eyes are scrutinizing his face like he's going to blow up or something. "Are you sure you don't want a mimosa?" Tadashi asks.

"Oh, I' not going to blow up!" Kei announces loudly. "And it's nine am!"

Kageyama shrugs, eyes not leaving the magazine he's holding in his hands. "It's a Saturday." he blinks up at Kei. "Go right ahead."

"Bah." Kei just takes a sip of his strong, strong coffee, he finally feels like his sinuses aren't completely clogged, alcohol might make the headache come back. "Wait, what's that you're reading!" He leans over the table to snatch Kageyama's magazine away. "Is this Italian? Why do you have a magazine in Italian?"

Suddenly, he's not the most nervous person on the table, Kageyama looks like he was just caught doing something very wrong. "Nothing," he growls, reaching out for the magazine that Kei is keeping just out of his reach. "Gimme back my magazine Tsukishima."

Yamaguchi looks between them slowly, just until Kageyama looks down and mumbles something that Kei doesn't quite catch. The green-haired man's eyes widen. "No way, really?" then he backtracks. "Not that I didn't expect it, you're great, just-"

Ok, now Kei is even more confused. He looks over to the small corridor that leads to the kitchen of the little, homey restaurant that they're having breakfast in, suddenly he feels like he might need something stronger than coffee after all. "Are you two going to tell me what you're talking about or is this some sort of secret?"

Kageyama looks up, blue eyes cautious. "I got an offer from a team in Italy," he says bluntly, and though Kei, of all people, knew full well that this day was coming, something in his stomach drops a little. "I'm leaving in November."

There's a moment of stunned silence before Yamaguchi all but tackles Kageyama and Kei's allowed to grimace a little before he composes his face. And gives Kageyama a little, sincere smile, even though he's feeling a little forlorn. "Congrats, try to at least know how to ask for the bathroom by the time you leave."

Kageyama barks out a laugh -are his eyes a little misty?-. "I understand half of the magazine," he says, frowning. "I can help with rent until the end of the lease." It's too soft a thing for Kageyama to say. It may well be 'I'll miss you' for how the other usually is.

Kei rolls his eyes at him. "You're good, I can cover it," Kei says.

"You might have a new roommate soon anyways," Yamaguchi interjects, eyes sparkling.

And then Kei remembers why they're having brunch in the first place, the fact that Yamaguchi called them in for it because he thought Kei would need 'moral support' or something of the sort after he asked Kuroo to talk.

Even if he did ask Kuroo to talk in five days when they see each other, which is just as anti-climatic as can be. "I don't think so," he answers simply as the waitress appears to lay a heaping of raspberry ice cream in front of Kei. Dman the cold, this is what they came here for. 

Yamaguchi bristles. "Shouldn't you have more faith in him, Tsukki? Or in you?" He says, cutting away a piece of his own pancakes. You just told me you hate his apartment when I picked you up this morning."

Kei frowns. "It's drafty, but it's not going to matter in a week." he sighs. "I really shouldn't have told him I'd meet his grandparents. He's expecting something really different from what I'm going to do."

His best friend gives him a close-lipped smile. "You could have handled that better. But I mean, you're telling him before you drag them into it, so it's good, right?"

"I wasn't coherent." Kei grumbles, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, then immediately checking his phone. "He hasn't answered." He turns his gaze on Kageyama. "Can I crash on your couch in Italy?"

Kageyama looks at him for a long moment, face stoic, though his eyes do go a little soft when they fall on Kei. "Sure, if you don't drink all my milk.

Kei guffaws, fuck, he's going to miss Kageyama, isn't he?

.

.

**_FROM: TETSURO -23:22_ **

_I’m heading to Bo’s now._

_Don’t tell my granny, but I think I almost burst._

_(But hey, her stew is worth it, totally)_

_I’m always too thin for her tastes >.<_

_Cold’s better, I can sort of breathe now._

_Hbu? Cold really gone?_

_Did you go to practice today?_

_I miss you though, had to get one of those electric blankets_

**_FROM: ME -23:26_ **

_Wow, I can’t imagine how much she made._

_I mean, you eat twice as much as me and then keep eating, so-_

_I’m kind of afraid of the amount she can cook now._

_(If you’re thin what am I?)_

_I’m good. The tip of my nose is still rubbed raw, though._

_And yeah, I have to make up for the days I missed (and Friday) tomorrow and the day after._

_But it’s good._

_Are you taking the electric blanket with you?_

**_FROM: TETSURO -23:33_ **

_It’s not my fault you eat like a high school girl._

_But she does make a lot. And dad wasn’t over there this weekend so I had to eat it all._

_(you’re a very, very sexy beanstalk)_

_Put some lotion on it. I mean it and don’t rub it._

_Good, I’m glad. Last train, right? I’ll pick you up and take you to have something tasty, yes?_

_And we can talk about your mystery thing._

_And yeah, I’m also bringing it back to Sendai._

_That should lease you, Mr cold feet._

**_FROM: ME -23:38_ **

_I am a professional volleyball player, and you can’t carry me without fearing you’ll throw out your back._

_I do not eat like a high school girl._

_(Did I dye my hair white at some point or are you projecting some weird, repressed feelings you have for Bokuto?)_

_I don’t rub it that much._

_Yeah, last train, just please no trying to get me drunk._

_Alright._

_Hey, you’re the one that said you’d warm me up._

_Who said you didn’t mean it literally._

**_FROM: TETSURO -23:43_ **

_Hey, I’m not denying any of that._

_But you eat half my portion unless it’s desserts._

_And that doesn’t count, Mister._

_(What? Are you sure you’re not the one with the repressed feelings?)_

_Yes, you do, why do you think it’s raw in the first place?_

_Just tasty tasty food, I promise. I’ll be on my best behavior._

_You’re cruel._

_I was falling asleep._

_Who knew you had icicles for feet?_

.

.

While it isn't something Tetsuro ever thought he'd think, right now he really understands the main character in Kafka's Metamorphosis.

If only because, he feels kinda decent for the first time in a week and he walked into Bokuto and Akaashi's -it's mostly Akaashi's, really- dining room at breakfast time ready to announce it. Only for the aforementioned Owl and his boyfriend to stare at him like he has grown a few extra insect limbs and an exoskeleton.

"Hey! What's with the long faces!" Tetsuro says, walking around the table. "I'm finally getting over this damn cold and you two look at me like I've grown an extra head." He reaches for the juice jug and an empty glass that has been set down there for him.

For another second Akaashi and Bokuto just stare t him wide-eyed, Bokuto even has his fork lifted, a piece of fish halfway to his mouth, hanging comically in midair. Finally, Akaashi recovers enough to open his mouth and actually give Tetsuro an answer. "Well, Kuroo-san, maybe not a second head, but-" He tilts his head to the side and blinks about four times, quite slowly, like he's expecting something to change. "-you're bright yellow."

Tetsuro can feel his brow furrow into a frown. "Yellow? I mean I'm sure I'm a little pale-" he lifts one of the sparkling porcelain plates from the table. "But I can't be-" 

It's probably the plate, right?

Tetsuro sprints for the bathroom, knocking over a couple of Bokuto's bottles of cream while he tries to flick the light switch on. "Fuck."

Way back when he was a child, his therapist's rule to write him a new soulmate pill prescription was for Tetsuro to chant back the side effects. Apparently, they're more common and more severe the younger the person taking them is.

How ironic that here he is, twenty-four going on twenty-five and yellow as a canary.

"Bro, I'm giving you a ride to the airport, yeah?" Bokuto's voice floats over to hi, just the right mix of apologetic and concerned to bock out any ability Tetsuro might have to object to it.

He sags, hand on the doorframe, of course, this had to happen the day before Tsukishima comes down here, it's just his luck. "Can I have some breakfast first?" he asks. "Or I might die waiting at the ER."

Bokuto huffs. "Fine, want me to tell Tsukki?"

Tetsuro thinks about it for a second, he doesn't want Tsukishima to worry, and he has practice until late today anyway. "Nah, I'll tell him when we know something else," he says, stalking back to the dining table. "He's coming tomorrow anyways, and I don't feel bad or anything maybe it's nothing too bad." he sighs, dropping on the chair. Now that he's paying more attention, even his arms have a yellowish tint to them. He does remember thinking he looked a bit yellow last night, but not to this degree.

From all his reciting so long ago, Tetsuro remembers the name of it, jaundice. Bokuto looks at him for a second. "Well, if that's what you want..." He and Akaashi go scuttle off to change, while Tetsuro eats quickly, feeling almost queasy now.

He's going to have to- No, he can't think like that, maybe it's not the pills, he was just sick, maybe it was the acetaminophen, right?

Though a couple minutes ago he was hungry, he barely manages to eat half of his plate before trudging to his room and quickly changing out of his pajamas. He can't stop himself from taking a glance at the full body mirror in the corridor.

Even the whites of his eyes are yellow.

When he gets back to the living room, Bokuto is waiting for him. "Sorry Bo, I stayed up here for your birthday, and now I've got you driving me around."

The Owl just shrugs. "It's still two days until my birthday." He looks Tetsuro over, probably thinking the same he is. "C'mon, you can play Tsukki's emo music in the car."

It's a sweet thing because Tetsuro knows Bokuto doesn't much like his boyfriend's music, but it makes Tetsuro feel a little better about the whole thing.

They climb on the car and he takes advantage of the permission Bokuto has given him. He doesn't want to have to tell Tsukishima about this until it's something he knows for sure. So this is really the next best thing.

_First I came_

_Then I crashed_

_Try to see it from my perspective_

_Don't take it easy on the animal_

_I am the animal_

From then on, it's almost a blur, almost like he's drunk or high, or something. Bokuto drives him to a nearby hospital, and they wait some amount of time that feels both too long and not long enough before a smiling, older man guides Tetsuro into one of the many consulting rooms that line the ER.

He finds himself lying on a gurney, feeling a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. "You're breathing pretty fast." The doctor says, and Tetsuro can't even really remember his name. "Here, sit up, I'll examine your lungs."

And Tetsuro wants to tell him that the cold is gone, that he knows hat this is, that it's nothing organic. But he can only sit up, hands at his knees, and let the man gently slide he stethoscope over his back, wincing at the cold. 

"Well your lungs seem clear, but your liver is a little enlarged. I'm going to order some tests, but-" He places a hand on Tetsuro's shoulder, clearly trying t seem reassuring, but all Tetsuro can do is shake a little. "-you said you've been taking Favrex for quite a long time, right?"

"The, uh-" Tetsuro stammers. "Yeah, the soulmate pills, I've been taking them for ten years."

The older man's lips press into a thin, thin line. "Look," he says. "Considering your symptoms it's very likely that your recent viral infection, combined with excessive consumption of analgesics may have triggered those pills' potential hepatotoxicity."

Tetsuro perks up. "So it's not really the pills?"

"No-" The man hurries to say. "-no, it is. it's not uncommon for them to start causing hepatotoxicity in long-term users, especially in presence of other agents that cause hepatic damage like acetaminophen." He leans in a little. "You seem stable, so, depending on your results you might be able to go home. But I must recommend you stop using those altogether, otherwise, you're risking lasting liver damage, there might be some already. Did you take one this morning?"

Tetsuro nods. "I have an alarm, it's practically automatic by now." he sucks in his cheeks, his insides feel like they're turning inside out. "Is there nothing else I could take?" The man shakes his head, no, and Tetsuro huffs out a sigh, his eyes burn a little but he's not about to cry in front of a stranger. "I had anxiety attacks-“ he explains. "-before I started taking them, is there something you can give me in case that happens?"

The man lifts his hand to scratch behind his neck. "Maybe a small prescription, and a referral to a psychiatrist, in case you need it."

There's an abyss of fear in front of Tetsuro, he feels like he's been thrown into some sort of spinning wheel then thrown out to a world where everything that was right three days ago is now wrong. "Alright, I'll take that."

.

.

**_FROM: TSUKKI <3 -07:35_ **

_You don't have any meetings today, right?_

_Just in time then._

_I'm glad you're better._

**_11:21_ **

_You are better, right?_

_Koganegawa just took a ball to the face_

**_14:26_ **

_Kuroo_

_Did something happen?_

**_17:01_ **

_Are you ok?_

_Ae you mad_

**_18:12_ **

_Tetsuro?_

.

.

**_FROM: TETSURO-18:45_ **

_I'm sorry I didn't answer all day._

_A few things happened._

_I'm staying the night at the hospital._

_I'm fine, tho'_

_Just_

_Can you come earlier tomorrow?_

_Please_

**_FROM: ME- 19:34_ **

_Kuroo!_

_Fuck, I just got out of practice._

_What happened?_

_Why didn't you call me?_

_I'd be there already._

_Of course, I'll take the first train I can get a reservation for._

_What hospital? I'll pick you up._

**_FROM: TETSURO- 19:36_ **

_I just-_

_It's nothing big, really I'm fine._

_Only staying the night to be cautious._

_I'm supposed to get out pretty early, why don't you wait for me at Bo and Akaashi's?_

_***location***_

_I'll tell you everything when I get there, ok?_

**_FROM: ME-19:36_ **

_You're staying the night!_

_Kuroo!_

_-_-_

_Fine, do you need me to bring you anything?_

_If I get there and you're still in the hospital, so help me._

_If anything else happens tell me._

_Please._

_I love you._

**_FROM: TETSURO- 19:38_ **

_No, I'm ok, I just bring your warm cuddy self._

_I'm in need of it, really._

_Love you too._

_Love you._

.

.

Just shy of two weeks, that's how long Kei has been dating Kuroo.

By all intents and purposes, he should be worried, this is someone that means a whole lot to him, besides its basic human decency.

But _this_ , this is a lot. He spends the night tossing around his bed, too hot, too cold. Too damn worried that Kuroo got taken out by a rhinoceros or something. 

He realizes he has no suitcase made around two in the morning. Kei huffs angrily at nothing and proceeds to throw off the covers so hard they fall to the floor. His small travel suitcase -the one he uses for away games- is tugged out of the closet, some random, non-matching pajamas are thrown at the bottom, along an indefinite number of boxers and three balled up pairs of socks. He's going to be there for three days anyway, maybe less. 

Though telling Kuroo about the soulmate thing might have to wait, depending on whatever it is that happened to him.

A couple warm sweaters find their way inside too, and a pair of nice pants, another of sweatpants. Through the whole thing, Kei can only think that he's annoyed, and worried, and damn well about to explode.

Thank the gods that he doesn't have a car or he'd be driving down to Tokyo in a very bad mood.

He only stops when, draped over his desk, he spots Kuroo's stupid black hoodie, a little wrinkled from where Kei slept in it last night. From then on he slips into the garment and goes to sit outside in front of the muted TV. On top of everything, Kuroo keeps listening to music and Kei doesn't even have the strength to pay attention to what Kuroo's listening to. It sounds sad and only succeeds in making him more worried.

Kageyama peeks out of his room, somewhere around five, ready for his morning jog -a morning jog they sometimes take together, but obviously, today is not the day for that-. Kei remembers mumbling something at him about the whole situation last night but that's it. The setter just starts the coffee maker before sitting with Kei for a couple of minutes, waiting for it to beep. "It's probably not that bad. I think he would have told you, he's not a jerk."

"I know." Kei leans forward, elbows on his knees,, the back of his throat tastes like salt and rust. "It just feels strange."

The room is cold and it feels like every word they say makes everything shake.

The coffee maker beeps, Kageyama stands up, heading for the kitchen. "Do you want me to call you a cab?"

.

.

Hospitals smell awful.

It's not even the smell of a lot of people crammed close together, it's not the sweat or all the bodily fluids that have spilled out on the linoleum floors. 

It's the pungent, boozy smell of the antiseptic, it makes Tetsuro gag. 

He wakes up amidst that smell, under a too-thin blanket with the hospital logo. Bokuto is asleep beside him, laying forward on the bed, drooling slightly. His back must hurt an awful lot.

The doctor that saw him last night left his papers signed, only telling Tetsuro to stay the night in case he felt worse. Apparently, his labs weren't so bad that they thought he needed much more than an IV bag, some pills, and to stop taking the pills that were making him sick in the first place. 

He glances out of the window, it's not even light out yet. He always has taken the pills at six am-ten years and barely a pill missed, he would laugh, except for the fact that since it's him in this situation, Tetsuro really can't find the humor in it- so it must almost be time. Tetsuro knows he has an hour or two before it starts. 

Maybe his soulmate will be merciful and refrain himself from singing or anything of the sort for a few hours. Tetsuro would be so grateful.

But what does his poor, long-ignored soulmate owe him anyway? He's not going to know, obviously, but if he did, Tetsuro would find it fully understandable for the other to begin blasting show tunes, as high as whatever sound system he prefers will go.

He can't sleep like this, the three hours he got were just sheer exhaustion pulling him down into an uncomfortable dark. 

And he dreamed, he dreamed of telling Kei that he's not taking the pills anymore, he dreamed of the blond walking away.

Tetsuro sits up on the bed, shaking his head. He knows full-well that's irrational, it makes no sense that Tsukishima would care that Tetsuro is stopping the pills, that he has to, for medical reasons of all things. They've been straightforward with each other when it comes to the soulmate thing. He chose Tsukishima and Tsukishima chose him and that's what has kept Tetsuro above the clouds for the past two weeks, even with the godawful cold. No, Tsukishima might be a little shaken, but probably not even that. For a second, Tetsuro allows himself to revel in the illusion of the blond giving him a deadpan look at the news, then letting Tetsuro curl up in his arms.

And it makes him feel just a little bit better, yeah, he has his Kei. 

Tetsuro takes a deep, long breath, the frantic beating of his heart slowing just enough that it stops pounding in his ears. 

That's when he catches a sniff of his own clothes, he hasn't showered in a little more than twenty-four hours.

He can't go to Tsukishima smelling like this, now can he?

Bokuto snores softly on the edge of the gurney, and the room is cold. Tetsuro smells horrid, and he might start hearing his soulmate any minute. 

But Tsukishima's going to be waiting for him and Bokuto's and then all of those have a solution.

.

.

By the time he steps out of the elevator on Akaashi and Bokuto's floor, Kei's heart is in his throat.

Something about all of this feels wrong, it feels like he has a guillotine hanging over his head, even more than when he was going to tell Kuroo the truth.

He still is, _he is_ , just... maybe after he knows Kuroo is fine. After he's hugged the older man, and maybe berated him a little for not telling him what was that happened. For leaving Kei to toss and turn for a whole night, believing he'd been run over by a car or, a zoo stampede. Or mobbed by angry clowns, whatever.

Their door is at the end of a long hallway, lined with bland-looking grey doors. Kei comes up to it and knocks, dragging his tiny suitcase behind him. One of the wheels must be loose because it keeps making this terrible rattle.

He's still wearing Kuroo's hoodie. Maybe, it's not the best call, but Kuroo's leftover scent is comforting and at least it's not the bright green Sendai Frogs one.

There are steps behind the door, Kei breathes in sharply, steeling himself, hand gripping the handle of the suitcase tightly. 

The door opens, however, on slate blue eyes and Bokuto's Jackal's jersey on someone that definitely isn't Bokuto. "Tsukishima," Akaashi says calmly, stepping to the side. "They're not here yet, apparently Kuroo had to have some sort of prevention talk, logged on the hospital record and all. Come in, we're letting the warm air out."

All the breath he was holding leaves Kei in a rush. "Oh, right, thanks," he says, stepping through the threshold. "I should've gone to the hospital after all I guess."

"Kuroo didn't tell you which one, did he?" Akaashi asks with a wry smile. "Do you want some tea? You look cold... and nervous."

"No." Their eyes meet for a fraction of a moment and Kei somehow feels like Akaashi's looking right through him. "That would be nice," he says, walking further in with his squeaky suitcase. "Please."

Akaashi closes the door, quiet, careful, almost like h feels the same weight hanging over Kei that he does. "Come on, I'm not leaving you out here," he says gently, padding over to the kitchen with his graceful, sweatpants-clad legs. "Mint? Peppermint? You gave Kuroo that awful cold, didn't you? You must still be feeling a little under the weather."

"Peppermint. Yeah." Kei answers, this wasn't what he expected, but for all he knows it's better. Akaashi's calm demeanor is a balm on his frayed nerves, so Kei follows him, leaning on the granite counter. "Did-did his cold get worse?" he asks, because even if Akaashi's calming, Kei's still too scared not to. "He told me he was better and then suddenly, he was in the hospital."

The older man presses his lips together into a tight, white line. "He was, he didn't lie to you. But something happened yesterday morning, I don't think he'd want me to tell you." Kei's face must visibly drop because Akaashi turns away from the tea baskets he's been filling and gives him a soft look. "But he _is_ fine now, Kou assured me, you don't have to look so nervous."

"I just-" Kei hesitates. "I was supposed to tell him something." he finishes lamely. "The water is boiling."

Akaashi startles a little, turning around to grab the pot and carefully or the warm water on the cups. He picks them up and hands Kei his, before turning around and heading for one of the comfy chairs in the living room. Kei follows, if only because it's weird to stand in a kitchen that isn't his, or Kuroo's. 

He sits down on the chair across from Akaashi slowly, cradling the cup between his hands carefully. Akaashi seems content with sipping at his own tea so Kei does the same, feeling a lot warmer and more confident than he did five minutes ago. Of course, that's when Akaashi decides to do the same thing, and Kei chokes a little on the boiling tea. "You're breaking up with him, then?" 

The question is asked in an even tone as if Akaashi's asking about the museum, or how the Frogs are doing. "No-" Kei breathes. "-did I- Did he says something?"

Akaashi shrugs, eyes on his tea. "Not at all, he's happier than I've seen him in- well, ever." Long eyelashes bat upwards. "But you're acting like you might be."

Kei looks down, biting his lip. "No, it's not that." his fingers tighten around the cup.

"I'm not someone who pries," Akaashi says. "You don't have to tell me, you just seemed off. Do you want to put on some music or something? Maybe you'll relax a little that way."

Gratefulness fills Kei's chest. "Any preferences?" he asks, already fishing out his phone from where it has been since the morning -he was too nervous to even listen to music on the train ride, that's how bad it is.

The older man shakes his head. "Nothing too loud, I guess..." 

So Kei chooses his Kuroo playlist and lets the sound fill the little room, bringing his knees up to his chest, tucked neatly under his chin. Sock-clad feet resting on the edge of the chair. A couple songs go by, and his cup is almost empty. The song that's playing is one that the added on a whim when Kuroo was in Korea, way too mushy even for this playlists standards, but good all the same. Back then he didn't think he would even see Kuroo again, but there was a small part that thought he might, or he could, at some point. And that's why the song ended up there, it was a secret both shared with and _from_ Kuroo.

_But if you'll be my bluebird returning_

_Then I'll be your evergreen_

_Standing tall on your horizon_

_Guiding you home to me_

_Guiding you home to me_

Maybe it's Akaashi's bluntness, his respect of Kei's boundaries, his easy familiarity, but Kei feels it bubbling up in his throat. "I'm his soulmate," Kei says. "I was supposed to tell him today." he laughs hollowly. "I know, I was supposed to- ages ago. But things haven't worked out that way."

He expects Akaashi to sigh, or gasp, he's not directly involved, he shouldn't look so shocked. "You've been his soulmate all this time?" The dark-haired man asks, eyes wide. "The soulmate he didn't-"

"Want to meet?" Kei sighs. "That's why I haven't told him." 

And the other man gapes, open-mouthed for a second. "I can't believe-" the sentence gets cut off as his eyes shoot to Kei's phone, innocently playing music int he background and he lunges for it. All while Kei watches, flabbergasted, Akaashi has gone crazy it seems. And the way he looks up with panicked eyes. "Tsukishima what's your password?" He hisses. "Quick!"

"Wha- Why?" he gasps, taken aback.

"I'll explain in a second, but you should be-" he stumbles over the words. "Just give me the password."

"Alright, alright!" Kei snaps. "It's eight-"

But then the door swings open, and they both turn to look at Bokuto and Kuroo standing at the threshold of it.

The first, grinning, the second, yellow, with a dumbstruck look on his face that quickly morphs to anger.

.

.

Yellow most definitely isn't Tetsuro's color.

At least not when it's everywhere on him and all Bokuto brought for him to wear while coming home from the hospital was his Sendai Frogs hoodie and a pair of worn black sweatpants.

He takes one last look at his reflection on the side of Bokuto's car and sighs. Definitely not the outfit he imagines would be suitable for meeting his boyfriend and having serious conversations in. "I look like a muppet." he huffs

Bokuto guffaws at it. "Can't say you don't buddy." The owl says, draping an arm over Tetsuro's shoulders. "But you're a little less yellow than yesterday." He laughs even louder at the way Tetsuro glares at him for that. "How is- uh- you-know-who doing?" He asks.

"I was trying not to focus on that." Tetsuro breathes out, long and drawn out. "And he's not Lord Voldemort," he crosses his arms over his chest, trying to keep his breathing even. "His musical taste is actually a lot like Tsukki's." he shrugs his shoulders, trying to seem nonchalant. "Figures."

"Sorry." Bokuto looks up at him sheepishly. "But see, it's not that bad! You've always liked Tsukki's weird, moody music." the hand on his shoulder squeezes softly. "It doesn't have to be unbearable and shit."

"Well, it better not be," Tetsuro grumbles. "It's hard enough as it is and I've only got like five of the calming pills before I have to get an appointment with a psychiatrist." They step into the elevator together and Tetsuro whips his head to the side to look at Bokuto. "I have to tell Tsukki before they run out too, and he was being all weird about something, I-"

The Owl just rolls his eyes at Tetsuro. "Oh, of all people, you know he'll support you the most," he says. "You two went from being grinches together to this, have some faith Bro!" He grins. "Now let's get up there so he can roast you for looking like a muppet, Akaashi and I can go for a walk if you want some alone time."

Tetsuro scoffs at the Owl's wiggling eyebrows, just as the elevator dings and it's doors open, a gust of cold air hitting them as they walk away from the open elevator sector with its veranda and couches, and into the corridor at the end of which Akaashi and Bokuto's apartment is.

And Tetsuro is trying to see the good, he _is_ , he is excited about seeing Tsukishima, and whatever else is going to happen can happen. But it's hard with this racket in his head. At the hospital, the music sounded a little fainter, further away, but the more they moved, the louder, clearer it became. And it's such a soft, lovely song, one that Tetsuro knows, for a second he feels despicable. The person on the other side likes the same music as Tsukishima, _his_ Tsukishima, and all Tetsuro has done all these years is deny him even the slightest acknowledgment.

But what else can he do? Whoever, wherever they are, he has his love. 

They reach the door, and Tetsuro can hear music playing faintly, and some sort of scuffle on the other side. Bokuto pushes past him, turns his key in the lock, and pushes open the door.

That's when Tetsuro hears it, rally hears it, even before he takes a step into the apartment.

What a coincidence.

Except it can't be, nothing's that exact, down to atoms or DNA, there are variations, there are mutations, there's chaos. Nothing is this exact. There's no way a note can be hit in such perfect synchrony not between his soulmate and his boyfriend's phone, unless-

Tetsuro takes the step inside.

Akaashi's kneeling on the floor, a phone in his hand, finger poised to tap on its screen. And the phone is blaring that exact same song, the one bouncing around inside Tetsuro's head. 

And Tsukishima, Tsukishima is frozen in a position that suggests that he was about to stand up from the comfy chair, probably leap towards Akkaashi and the phone. And he looks like someone just hit him over the head with a mallet. 

The only sound in the room is the phone, music still playing, a tinny, mocking sound. 

In a snap second, so many things make sense, from the very first time Tsukishima ran away from him at training camp to, well, _everything_ , everything makes a lot more sense now that he know that Tsukishima is- Now that the knows.

Then Tetsuro sees red.

He barely notices his breath coming more rapidly, any attempts to control it thrown out of the window. "You-" he rasps out, and he can't believe that breathy, broken thing is his voice. "-lied to me."

The blond's mouth opens and closes, lips trembling like he's about to start crying. Maybe he is, right now Tetsuro can't see past the blood in his eyes and the roaring of his pulse in his ears. "I was going to tell you."

"In my deathbed?!" Tetsuro roars, hands, arms, whole body shaking violently. "You- you-" And he feels this thing rising up his throat, this horrible flood of venom, and bile, and every ill-feeling he ever has had. And none of them are for Tsukishima in front of him, with a clear tear out fo his left eye and over his cheek as he stares at Tetsuro with eyes full of fear, but right now it's all directed at the blond. His shaking hands close into fists, and every muscle on his shoulders tenses up until he feels like they're about to snap. 

It's too much. His ears are ringing, his chest is being torn apart by the hands of a giant. If he stays here for even a minute more something bad is going to happen, somethingcatastrophic even, he feels like he's at the edge of an abyss, at the foot of a volcano. 

And he has just been pushed right into the disaster by the person who supposedly loves him.

"Kuro-"

"No!" he starts. "No!" he takes two long strides forward then stops, eyes looking at Tsukishima, but also at some point behind him, somewhere far away that doesn't burn with betrayal. "We're done." He gasps through gritted teeth.

He wishes that sounded fierce, angry, but it only sounds broken.

And Tetsuro whips around, heads over to the first door he sees, and slips inside-the guest bathroom- and slams it closed.

Then he leans his back against the wood and slides to the floor, gasping for breath. There’s pounding, and pleading, and bargaining from outside the door. But Tetsuro isn't listening, because he can't even catch his breath, it’s like his lungs have closed up, and drawing in even a tiny amount of extra breath with each gasp is all that he can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D  
> We're in the angst part of this story now *cracks knuckles*.  
> Soooo, what do you all think of this one? I'd love to know.
> 
> Love (and sorry if I gave you an ulcer), Kyrye


	8. Cursing my name (wishing I'd stayed)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frustration is a beast. Betrayal is dubious. No one makes good, healthy decisions here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii! So this chapter is brought to y'all sponsored by me being a little drunk last night. It did wonders for my productivity.  
> Anyway. Thanks for the support last chapter! That has to have been the most comments I've ever gotten for one chapter. I'm glad yo all like this. Even if I do make the babies suffer.  
> That said, lets dive in

Many painful things are happening to Kei right now. 

Like, Akaashi and Bokuto’s floor is hard and he has been here for upwards of an hour so his ass is smarting, and he also did spend at least thirty minutes of that time calling out to Kuroo on the other side of the door, so his throat hurts like hell too. And then there’s the part where the knowledge of how much he fucked up not being honest, to begin with, is at the turning corner of his every thought.

But what hurts most is that he can hear Kuroo on the other side of the door, and Kei would break it down without a second thought if he thought it would help either of them.

As it is, at least now Kuroo’s breaths are long, purposeful, unlike the little wheezing ones from when he first locked himself in the bathroom.

_‘I went all yellow, even my eyes!’_

His mother’s voice is another thing that assaults him. If Kei were religious he’d call this divine intervention, divine punishment for dishonesty, for greed.

But in the end, Kei expected to lose Kuroo when he told the truth when he _finally_ was brave enough to do it, knowing he might have to let the older man go. It’s what he told everyone who knew, and it’s not his fault that none of them believed it.

He throws his head back, wishing Bokuto and Akaashi were still here.

Or at least Akaashi, who tried to help Kei, even if it was too late for help to be of any use. Bokuto seemed pissed when the former setter swiftly guided him out of the apartment to go take a walk. Kei can see why.

But this still isn’t his place to be, at all, his place to be is in Miyagi, in his apartment where he can’t hurt anyone being an idiot. 

At his sides, his hands ball into fists, nails scraping the nice wood of the apartment floor. He may feel like ice water was injected in his veins, like everything inside him has quit working and become some sort of nauseating frozen item. But he can’t leave without saying something to Kuroo, even if the other probably will only hear lies.

He heaves a sigh, it’s all useless. 

“I didn’t do this on purpose.” He starts, and there’s no sign that Kuroo is listening, but what else is he going to do? Kei’s already sawed open, what’s it going to matter if he lets his guts spill on the floor. “You know me enough to know that, don’t you? I didn’t think it mattered, before, and when I started taking the pills even less.” His voice breaks, despite his best efforts. “I didn’t think we would- I thought I was never going to see you again and then-“

Still, nothing.

“I know not telling you was wrong,” he says wany. “And I know you don’t want to see me, that’s fine. I’ll go Kuroo, just-“ his voice breaks further, Kei’s not going to cry, not here for Kuroo to see how helpless he feels. “-take care.”

And again, there's no silence, eve Kuroo's breathing, so erratic at first as calmed down to the point where Kei can't assure he's hearing it, even when he tries to listen closely for it.

This is it, then? The last word Kuroo said to him was 'done', right? That's it for a clan break then. No good would come from him sitting here any longer, essentially Kuroo in the bathroom. All he gains is looking pathetic anyway. 

Maybe he would have liked to talk to Akaashi for a little, but he's not going to wait here. Kei pushes himself up, knees popping, hips aching, form the position they were bent in, the back of his legs as cold as his insides feel. And it's silly, how he dusts his pants off, only to notice he's still wearing Kuroo's hoodie. 

Slowly, robotically, Kei walks to the living room, tugging the fabric over his head, just as he notices his headset on the chair he'd been sitting in before the world turned inside out. He folds the hoodie carefully, and after a moment of consideration, lets the garment fall on the chair and secures the headset around his neck.

Just in time for a lock to click somewhere behind him, and soft footsteps to come up until Kei is sure that if he turns around, he'll be less than a foot from Kuroo. "You're just going to go?" the man asks, voice hoarse, and Kei whips around. He was right, Kuroo is two steps away, the sallow, yellowish skin of his face pulled tight into a frown.

Something in Kei's frozen insides lurches, he looks away, clutching his phone tightly in his hand. "Well, that's what you want, isn't it?" he grits his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. "I knew something like this might happen, I don't want to inconvenience you further."

The older man just looks at him for a couple of seconds. Breathing in and out so purposefully that it almost looks artificial. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, voice small, as he rounds Kei and lets his body fall on the chair that Akaashi occupied a couple of hours ago.

His back is bowed, disappointment clear in his face. He looks so tired, so wan that Kei almost rushes to his side. Only he _can't_ now, or ever, from now on and it breaks his heart.

It breaks Kei's heart.

.

.

Around four hours, that's how long since the effect of the pills started fading.

And Tetsuro is already wondering if 'lasting liver damage' isn't worth it. One thing he never wondered about or missed was panic attacks, he tightens his arms around his knees, counting the lengths of his breaths, keeping the presence outside of the door well away from his thoughts. The cold of the bathroom tiles seeps into the fabric of his clothing, but that's welcome, it anchors Tetsuro to the moment, to who he is, keeps him grounded as he slowly, slowly begins to process what happened.

At least until he hears the soft, regretful voice from outside the door. The first few words don't reach him, only Tsukishima saying to take care and that he's going.

Going, as in leaving, an irrational wave of ire fills Tetsuro, halting his slow ascent from the hole he was launched into when he came into the apartment. He's just leaving? After years of keeping a secret from Tetsuro all the time he gets to freak out is, what? An hour, two at most, it's not even lunchtime, and Tsukishima has already let it all go to hell.

Although a sheepish voice says way n the back of Tetsuro's head, it's not like he has given any indication that he'll listen to anything the blond might say, even if he stayed here until hunger drove Tetsuro out of this little bathroom.

He doesn't really think much as he rises, back still pressed to the door, fingertips brushing softly over the cool surface. The front door hasn't licked open or shut yet, Tsukishima hasn't left. 

As he turns the handle of the door, he wonders if it's not better to let the blond go. The beast of betrayal and bitterness is roaring it Tetsuro's chest, and, shaken as he was he meant his earlier words. It's probably just his age-old habit of wanting to know the reason for things. Still, as his feet take him closer to the blond bent form, he 

has to start counting his breaths again, some part of him rebels at this whole situation.

Some part of him calls out 'mine, mine and who cares about the rest.

But the part that Tetsuro has lived by, the one he has nurtured that has taken him where he wanted to be, just can't be that forgiving. "You're just going to go?" he finds himself asking.

And then Tsukishima, glasses askew, eyes red turns around, lips pressed into a determined line. "Well, that's what you want, isn't it?" He grits out, the muscles in his jaw trembling for how tense they are. "I knew something like this might happen, I don't want to inconvenience you further." 

Infuriating as it is, it's also filled with resignation, and Tetsuro knows somehow that a word from him would shatter it, have Tsukishima staying without much effort. He can't bring himself to say that word, and he's hungry and tired, so instead, he pads over to the chair opposite to Tsukishima, gaze firmly on the urban landscape outside of Akaashi's window. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, and Tsukishima stiffens in front of him, carefully leaning on the back of the other chair for support. 

The blond shrugs and Tetsuro looks up just in time to see that beloved face close off completely. "You didn't want to know," he purses his lips, turning to the side to pull a small suitcase over. "You made that very clear, and I didn't want you to-" he trails off, mumbling something that Tetsuro doesn't quite catch.

"To what?" Tetsuro snaps, breathing in deeply. He already sort of knows what Tsukishima is going to say. "What exactly did you think I was going to do, Tsukishima." At being called by his whole last name, the blond flinches, as if struck. "What kind of shitty person do you think I am?"

Tsukishima glares at him, anger rearing its head. "You told me you wanted nothing to do with _me_. What was I supposed to do? Show up skipping like Hinata did to Kageyama for you to shoot me down? he shakes his head. "If anything you could say I was doing you a favor."

"Oh, sure! Lie to me for seven years, I'll be sooo grateful!" Tetsuro grits out, springing from his chair. "And what the hell do you mean shoot you down? You're the one that acted like you barely wanted anything to do with me for the first few months. I had t drag conversations out of you." The flood of bile is back, and this time he doesn't bother to stop it. "What did you think I was going to hate you? When you told me you didn't care about it yourself? Is that what you think of me?"

"I-“ Tsukishima stops speechless. “You know it’s not like that.” He sighs, fingers coming together to tug at each other. “What would you have done then? If after I told you I wanted nothing to do with you, you still found out? Uh, what then?”

And that’s the straw, Tsukishima’s acting like all of this is personal. Like Tetsuro's soulmate wasn’t just a nauseating, abstract thought in the back of his head until two hours ago. “I always wanted everything to do with you!” he spits out. “Even when you ran away from me like you were afraid.” He pants, hands curling into fists. “I would have just told you the truth and that I understood how you saw things.” He opens his arms, exalted. “And maybe things would have been a little rough at the start, but I can assure you, not rougher than seven years of lying and manipulating and-“

“What manipulating?!” Tsukishima interrupts him with a snarl, walking a step closer, his golden eyes hard. “Yes, I omitted stuff, but you were always the one seeking me out. I would have been fine if you had just left me alone!”

Struck, Tetsuro's breath gets caught in his throat. “Oh-“ he crosses his arms over his chest as if defending from the blow that’s already been struck. “Is that what you want? Well then I’m not stopping you, Tsukishima-“ he spits out, voice pained. “I’ll leave you alone all you want.”

And then, the blond’s face falls. “That’s not what I meant.” His voice breaks and his whole being seems to sag against the chair, a marionette with cut strings. “And I did want to tell you but I was sure you would walk away the moment I said the words.”

And he looks so broken, that Tetsuro almost breaks too, right there. It would be so easy to give Tsukishima the benefit of the doubt, to agree that it was a shitty situation and maybe he didn’t do things the way Tetsuro would have, but he did the best he could with what he has and who he is.

But try as he might, the betrayal’s still there, a sword driven from the front, slowly, and with clear intent. 

“I guess well never know now,” Tetsuro says, voice softer. “I for one, don’t agree.”

There’s a breath, a moment where they both take in a lungful of the congealed, unpleasant air in the room, and their gazes meet. Tetsuro can see the regret, the sadness in Tsukishima’s, but the part in him that reaches for it with greedy fingers is locked far, far away. “I’m sorry.” The blond breaths out, finally.

“I don’t trust you.” Tetsuro manages to drag out from his rebellious throat, the pain clear in his voice "I can understand but I don’t trust you.”

It’s final, as good as saying the words themselves and they both know it all too well. It’s over, whatever these past two weeks were, poisoned from the root up. It’s over and Tsukishima jerks up, lean arms shaking under the short sleeves of his t-shirt. 

Tetsuro’s eyes fall to his own hoodie, neatly folded on the chair, and he tugs at the one he’s wearing the green one. But Tsukishima comes ahead of him, he snorts, voice cold though his eyes are brimming with unshed tears. “Don’t bother." he croaks, steeling his grip on the handle of the suitcase. “It was nice knowing you, Kuroo.” He says, turning his back on Tetsuro and walking resolutely to the door, the wheels of the suitcase screech with every step he takes.

And Tetsuro just watches, a statue of salt, afraid that he will crumble with the slightest movement, as Tsukishima opens the door to the apartment, and with a last look at him takes a step thought the threshold and slams it shut.

Out of the apartment, out of Tetsuro’s life. 

Then suddenly, his lungs decide -for the second time today- not to work anymore.

.

.

After the door clicks shut, Kei stands outside in that corridor that, right now, seems like it has no end.

He's freezing, his fingertips, his insides.

And there's this part of him, small, wanting that's crying out for Kuroo to whip that door open and stop him. That pleads for Kuroo's arms to wrap around him, and have that voice that he loves tell him it's all going to be alright. And Kei would do anything to make it up to Kuroo if he was only allowed, anything. 

But he's not allowed and he stands there for what seems like hours, tears streaming freely down his face while his legs threaten to buckle. Kuroo doesn't come, there's not a sound coming from the apartment and the pit of sadness in Kei's chest fills up with regret and anger. Kuroo can't trust him? Kuroo doesn't want him? Then Kuroo can have none of him. 

It takes a moment of consideration, a moment where his legs almost do falter as he turns around, violently tears the headset off his neck, and hooks it over the door handle to Akaashi and Bokuto's apartment. 

The whole thing feels overdramatic, but somehow it makes Kei feel a little better before he gets dragged right back down to the cesspool of cold and regret that opened up after Kuroo locked himself in the bathroom.

It's using that tiny surge of adrenaline that he manages to wipe his face, turn around and walk over to the elevator.

On the ground floor, he finds Akaashi and Bokuto sitting on a little ledge at the front of the building, and he can't help the tears that brim over the edges of his eyes. Akaashi tries to reach out, face open, pouring pity, but Kei just walks wight past them flagging down a convenient cab. 

He finds himself at the train station, paying twice as much as usual for a train ticket, phone pressed to his ear. The voice on the other side comes winded, he's surely at practice, but he knew today might go wrong so he must've kept his phone close by. "Were you right?" Kageyama asks, straight t the point, several years of living together -including when he got appendicitis and had to call Kei to go get him- giving him the knowledge necessary to be aware that Kei wouldn't be calling if things were going well. 

"I'm coming home." Kei gasps, and now he does start crying, in the middle of a crowded train station with a bunch of mothers, and children, and tourists watching him. "I'm taking the next train," he sniffs.

"Next-" Kageyama curses. "I'm picking you up."

It's not up for discussion, so Kei just murmurs his assent into the phone. 

Kageyama sighs. "I'll get you something to drink." And then he hangs up.

There's still an hour and a half until the next train even stars boarding, so Kei runs off to the nearest bathroom, calms himself down, and splashes water on his red, swollen face. 

Numb, suddenly, and in absolute silence.

All there is, is silence.

.

.

Bokuto finds Tetsuro curled up in the bed of the guest room he has been occupying for the past few days, the Frogs' hoodies crumpled up in a corner of the room, where it ended up after Tetsuro decided he couldn't look at it for much longer.

"C'mon buddy, we got takeout." The owl says, nudging Tetsuro on the side. After receiving no response, the man sits down on the edge of the bed one of his large hands stroking idly, reassuringly over Tetsuro's shoulder. 

The free-falling hasn't stopped, maybe it halted, while Tetsuro as talking to Tsukishima but after the blond left it resumed shortly. It feels like a piece of his world has been torn away, an elemental part of the earth's cortex torn away and Tetsuro fell right through it. 

He shouldn't have let Tsukishima go.

No, that's not right, he didn't _want_ to, but he _had_ to and he did mean what he said. No amount of love can take the lies away, and right now Tetsuro misses him, wants him, and also wants to yell at him, to use every hurtful word on the planet. He's mature enough to know that no matter what, the other doesn't deserve that.

Bokuto looks down at him, eyes pitying. "Did he tell you why?" he asks.

"Something about not wanting me to hate him," Tetsuro croaks out, face turning to the pillow. "I'm not that person, am I?"

And that's the big question, the thing -after the lying- that got him the maddest. He's not that abrasive, is he? He's not someone who would hate someone just for that, certainly not Tsukishima.

Bokuto clicks his tongue. "You always have come off a bit strong with the soulmate stuff." he gives Tetsuro a look that's equal times understanding and disapproving. "Bit too resentful, Bro." he pauses to think. 

"Enough to completely shut someone out for something they can't control?"

"I-" A terribly embarrassed expression comes over Bokuto's face. Tetsuro takes it as an answer, because, what else is it going to be? He shoves a pillow over his face and groans. "Look, buddy-" Bokuto sighs. "I've known you since we helped Kenma dye his hair when we were first years. And I know you're this huge softie, I know you almost stopped taking the pills like three times in high school because you were sad. But maybe it was different for Tsukki, he's not me-"

"Clearly," Tetsuro groans, sitting up on the bed and rubbing his eyes. "You're two ends of the pessimist-optimist spectrum." He huffs, when put that way, maybe he gets where Tsukishima was coming from. A little.

Doesn't justify the lying, though, some hesitance, maybe but not the lying

At least that's what his more rational side tells him, and it's hard to listen to it when he just wants to not care about this whole thing. 

Narrowed golden eyes scrutinize his face. "So you're gonna do something about Tsukki?" he asks, like Tetsuro is supposed to have an answer right away. Like it's that easy and he doesn't feel the betrayal ravaging his chest.

Tetsuro glares at him, right before he realizes how much of a jerk he's being to someone into whose home he unwittingly dragged a boatload of drama. "I don't know." He looks down at his yellow hands. "I don't think it would end up well if I chased him, I don't even know if I want to. I mean I love-" He closes his eyes feeling the skin between his brows wrinkle, his head still hurts. "I can't do this, I still don't understand- He listened to me complain about this for years. He-"

He was probably so hurt.

Fuck.

"It sucks that he lied to you," Bokuto says. "For a long ass time too-" It does seem like he's going to say something else, but Tetsuro's quicker, he rolls off of the bed on the other side, a little unsteady on his feet. He glances at his suitcase, although he knows what he's looking for isn't there. No one in their right mind smokes through a cold, but right now he needs something and if he were a little more impulsive, he might go and get drunk and do something stupid. But he doesn't fancy complicating this situation more than it already is. And, even the thought of it feels wrong, like cheating even though he's the one that ended it all.

He turns to Bokuto, pursing his lips. "I'm going to go take a walk Bo," And when the Owl's face contorts in concern, he hurries to add. "I'm f- I just need to think, I'll be back early."

The thought of instant gratification drives him, would have, if he hadn't glanced at the dinner table where a headset that looks awfully familiar lies innocently. His heart lurches, painfully in his chest, and for the first time, the flood of bile recedes. With everything, the tangle in his head, the betrayal in his chest, he hasn't wondered why the voice isn't there. Why after Tsukishima left, the music didn't come back. And Tetsuro knows Tsukishima well enough, he would've been listening to music the moment he stepped out of the apartment.

Tetsuro approaches the table silently, carefully, like the headset is going to turn out to be some sort of monster that bit his fingers off. But it isn't, he takes it in his hands, so softly that he's barely touching it as he feels tears brimming over his eyes. "He left it hanging form the door handle." Akaashi's voice interrupts his train of thought. Tetsuro's head whips around to meet slate blue eyes. 

"Akaashi-"

The younger man holds up a hand to stop Tetsuro. "I don't have the full picture Kuroo, I don't think even you do. So I'm not going to say anything, except that you should really try to get a perspective on things."

Tetsuro wants to bark out. What about him? He was the one lied to, he was the one hopelessly happy one second then crumbling the next. But that's useless, that's useless and he needs to get out of this place. Now.

He turns to the door, biting the inside of his cheek so hard that he tastes blood. 

Only when he's three cigarettes in, sitting at some park in some neighborhood not that far from Akaashi and Bokuto's, does he realize that the headset is still clutched tightly in his hand.

Tetsuro slips the headset over his ears, doesn't listen to music, doesn't even plug it to his phone, just feels the pressure over his ears, and the burning in the back of his throat.

.

.

The problem with knowing something would crumble before it did, is that Kei feels pretty pathetic for being so broken up over it. As in, he's spent the past God knows how many years telling anyone who would listen that Kuroo wouldn't be able to stomach the sight of him after he found out.

And he was right so... Why the hell can't he get off the damn couch?

Well, the couch is comfy for one and with his face pressed into the cushions, he doesn't have to bear Kageyama seeing how raw his eyes and nose are. Besides, it's the perfect height for him to lift the wine bottle to his lips and just chug. 

This might not be healthy behavior, but... fuck healthy behavior. The moment Kuroo looked at him like Kei sunk a knife in his gut he felt the hammer fly, smash into his frozen insides and shatter them all. 

The wine is proving to be a decent substitute for vital organs so far, the more he drinks, the more he feels like he's right about that. 

There's a disapproving hum directed to his latest chug, though, Kei lifts his head to fix Kageyama with a glare. "What?" He spits out, mean, rattling. "If you'd been able to get shitfaced when Hinata started dating pudding head, you would have."

Kageyama raises one of his eyebrows at Kei, clearly unamused. He's not drinking, not since the first couple of glasses, after which Kei took on sole possession of the bottle and the setter didn't make an effort to take it back.

"Except I was sixteen and couldn't drink." If this were any other time, Kei would be guilty that he is drinking that expensive wine Kageyama got as a gift when he joined the Adlers. Hell, he would be appreciating it because it really is a damn good wine and he usually cares about shit like that. Kageyama tells him as much. "Might want to slowdown Tsukishima, that's supposed to be fancy," he grumbles, with more concern than heat.

The Keyword in the previous phrase is usually, Kei just throws his head back. "Right now I'd drink moonsh-" he stops in his tracks, too soon, it's always going to be too soon. "Just fuck off." he snarls, bringing the bottle back to his lips.

He has the weekend off, after all, he can get just as shitfaced as he wants and no one ever has to know. He _was_ going to get shitfaced actually, for different reasons, but still, feeling the way he feels right now is a legitimate reason.

Besides, it's Kageyama's good wine. The first year in him is rejoicing.

Now that he thinks about it Kageyama's being awfully patient with him, he's barely pushed for information and just jammed the bottle between them as soon as they got to the apartment. Even his half-hearted grumbling about the wine is just the usual script. Kei turns a hazy gaze to him, smiling to himself for reasons even he isn't privy to. "Don't you wanna know what happened?" he says, propping up his torso until it's not so much his legs on Kageyama's lap as his whole weight. "You're not half as smirky as usual."

Kageyama being like this is understandable, though, to a degree. Kei doesn't want to remember -but he does because since what happened this afternoon, his brain has sort of lost its filter- the first time a picture of Hinata and Kenma in brazil popped up on Instagram and he quite literally dragged Kageyama to the bath, made sure he didn't drown and then cleaned sick up from the floor -that's a memory that is going to haunt him for a long long time- but he figures it's just fair. 

In the semi-darkness of the room, the setter's eyes study him, and Kei suddenly feels like he's about to spike on the court, which would be awkward, except he's not a big drinker and he's at a point where the wine is dulling the pain in his chest just enough for him to find it funny. The laugh that tears up his throat is still a little pained though. "I haven't asked you, have I?" The setter says, evasive, staring into Kei's face. "But whatever, go off if you want, god knows I don't want to have to take you to the ER."

Kei knows, by now, that unless he quite literally pours what's left in the bottle down Kageyama's throat, that's the most forthright question he's going to get. So he leans forward even further until he's almost resting his head on Kageyama's shoulder and he can smell the man's body wash. "So it was the perfect fucking storm," he says, too animated for what he's saying. "Like the concept is that everything aligns to make shit.. well, _shit_?" Kei waves his arms and Kageyama's reach out to keep him from toppling over the edge of the couch. "That. We were listening to music and apparently, Kuroo had just gone off the pills. And you know? Akaashi almost prevented it, but then Kuroo came in and ended things with me. Seriously, he looked like he was the one going through pains to keep a stupid fucking secret for his stupid fucking sake for the last seven fucking years." Kei laughs, bitter and loud. " And then he ended it with me-" his voice grows milder, more broken up. "And I tried to explain, and he broke up with me again." He sighs. "Keeping a secret for his fucking sake for seven years apparently makes me untrustworthy, who would have said?"

The only light illuminating them is coming from the kitchen and the streetlamps outside. Kageyama's eyes glint with it, that and a little pity. "If it was for his sake-" he says, hands gently smoothing over Kei's thighs. "Maybe you would have told him before you got together."

It's almost sage, coming from the other, and Kei takes a moment to take it in, to laugh internally before he answers with a voice so full of bitterness that it even leaves an aftertaste on his tongue. "I know-" he leans forward, breathing hard. "You don't have to pour salt on the wound."

And then Kei is close, so close. And Kageyama's eyelids flutter. "Someone has to take you down." He huffs, and his breath brushes over Kei's lips.

"I know," Kei says, lips trembling as they press tot the setters slowly, violently. "I just-"

And then it's Kageyama's turn. "I know."

All else is lost to the ice in his veins, and the streetlamps, and the way Kuroo looked at Kei when _it_ happened.

.

.

Of course, this is Tetsuro's luck. Of course.

The week immediately following his and Tsukishima's split, the ad campaign comes out. And it is -of course- even more awful than he would have ever imagined. It's billboards and fliers and three different TV commercials that he can't avid because someone's always watching TV in on of those tiny ones and they're on youtube too, so he really, really can't escape it.

And he's forced to -over and over again- see the blond smirking at the camera or kissing that girl, or -and this one is the worst- looking just like himself while he sips on coffee that Tetsuro has tasted fresh off his lips.

Most people would say this has been his own fault, that this is a mess of his own doing, that a fucking sentence asking the blond to give Tetsuro some time to get himself in order might have saved everything. If Tetsuro could only, actually, get himself in order. 

The thing is, that he can't.

It usually goes like this. Step one, he wakes up in a bed that's a single and still too big for just him, reaches out for someone who isn't there, and wants to cry. Second, he remembers why there isn't anyone with him on the bed, thinks he did right by himself, and pities Tsukishima a little. Third, he kind of understands Tsukishima's reasoning -though not fully, never fully- and embraces the fact that it may have been just the way things happened. Fourth, he remembers the good, he longs for lean arms that turn tender just for him and golden eyes that watch him wake up with the wonder of a child on Christmas morning, he suffers. Fifth, he remembers that it all happened with him being blissfully unaware of a very important thing and rages. Seventh, he wonders if that's enough, it there isn't more if he shouldn't take another look at it. Ninth he either rages smokes himself into a sore throat or falls right asleep.

Right now, he's in the fifth stage, sort of. Sometimes, he falls asleep around the seventh, those are the good days. 

As it is, he's just getting out of work, hands in his pockets eyes on the pavement. It has been two weeks since 'it' happened and if he's lucky, he'll be able to sleep before getting to the eighth. Tomorrow is going to be bad as it is. 

He lifts his hand to idly toy with the headset around his neck as he slips into the driver's seat of his car. 

**_Sendai Frogs VS the Eastern Japan Paper Mills._ **

And of course, everyone else wanted to go golfing or had their niece's birthday, so, of course, the junior of the team had to cover it.

For what? Tetsuro doesn't know, an email to the coach would solve any issues with the new advertising contracts, it's not like anyone would refuse the money. 

But still, he has to go, so he’ll go and pretend things are alright.

He hopes. 

Except he has been sitting on the driver's seat of his car smelling the awful air freshener he bought form some random guy at an intersection last week for ten minutes. And nothing's alright.

Tsukishima is a hole in the tectonic plates of his word -perhaps, the one he fell through to end up in this awful freefall-, he's a scent at his house, he's the cold side of the bed and even if the ads all got taken down, Tetsuro wouldn't be able to forget him.

And he misses him so acutely that the stupid voice calling for Tsukishima has switched from claiming grace, to claiming that feeling like an actual human being instead of a paper doll blowing in the wind is worth the forgiveness.

Especially if the blond is also suffering.

Especially because he knows the other is.

There hasn't been a peep, not one, from him since the day 'it' happened. Since he left his headset in Tokyo and never came back for it. 

It's not like Tetsuro has done anything, listened to anything. 

Everything feels like 

betrayal, like the betraying knife.

Whatever else he does tomorrow, he needs to keep away from Tsukishima Kei.

.

.

Years and years of preparation have brought Kei here. He definitely doesn't get distracted during the match, hell, he doesn't even notice Kuroo, he's too concerned with the court and one Suna Rintarou, who ahs always, always -since the first year of highschool- gotten on Kei's nerves like no one else.

Except for Kuroo, he's in a category of his own. Always has been, always will be.

So when the game does eventually end with Kei feeling an insurmountable impulse to stick his tongue out at Suna., he spots Kuroo immediately. And that's saying something because the other is clearly trying to be inconspicuous. He's sitting on the stands, in a suit that looks like every other suit Kei has seen him in. The mess of his hair falling over a face that is slightly paler than Kei remembers.

And the circles under his eyes are visible from where he's standing.

There's something in Kei, deep, deep inside that struggles as he walks away from Kuroo and to the showers. The foggy haze that overcame him as soon as he noticed needs some cold water before it recedes enough for him to be able to look the other in the eye.

Unlike the first time they saw each other again this year, Kuroo does the whole JVA thing in a pretty serious, professional manner. After the cursory showers, they all get called to an adjunct room where sports drinks and a sandwich are waiting on each of the chairs that have been prepared for them. Kei snags one way in the back row, pulling the jacket he wears tight around his chest and shoulders. He glares at the ground as he goes, refusing to look at the front of the room, where Kuroo's familiar figure sits. 

Kyoutani, of all people, seems to notice that he's feeling like crap. He takes the seat right in front of Kei, a frightfully angered expression clouding his face -which is funny because Kei knows how he looks when he opens the lunches his soulmate makes for him, and that's everything but scary-. The rest of the team trickles into the room slowly, and Kei realizes that maybe he's more than a little obvious, because soon all the chairs around him are filled, some of his teammates even drag theirs so Kei ends up at the center of this semi-circle of chairs and volleyball players.

Only then, does he dare to look up at Kuroo, whose face is blank, the neutral set of his lips so forced that Kei's afraid his poor muscles will start twitching.

And all at once, a wave, the feeling of being unwanted that he's been staving off for the past three-quarters of a decade come rushing in and he has to look away before he starts crying in front of his whole team like a pathetic wreck.

He's supposed to be past that phase.

So he glares at his lap the whole time, barely listens to what Kuroo is saying about publicity for some new sports drink brand. It doesn't really matter, he can glare at the camera and pretend it's acting, this one is supposed to feature them all, he surely won't have too big a role. When someone gives him a contract, Kei just signs on the dotted line and hopes it will all be over soon.

And then when it _is_ almost over, when Kei is about to walk out of the door and almost safely on his way home, Kuroo calls his name. "Tsukishima!" And the hollow in his chest throbs. 

He wants to pretend he didn't hear, but everyone heard. And he can't lose face like that, so he turns around, ice in his eyes, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Yes, Kuroo-san?" He asks venom in his voice, and behind him, Kyoutani and Koganegawa bristle. 

"I wanted to talk to you in private," Kuroo says, voice measured.

Kei huffs, takes a step forward and glares at Kuroo. "Alright. I'm in a hurry though."

His teammates hesitate, then walk out slowly, leaving Kei alone in a room with the man who broke his heart -which they sort of know, but also sort of don't-. The moment they become the only ones in the room Kuroo's face cracks open and Kei feels like an ice bath has just been poured down the back of his jersey. "I do have something to get to-" he starts, and he does, but Kuroo doesn't need to know it's a trashy romance book. "-what did you need?" 

The corners of Kuroo's eyes tighten. "I just wanted to know how you were-" he looks down meekly at the floor, Kuroo should never be meek, it doesn't suit him. "You left your headset."

Kei presses his lips tight together. "That was intentional," he answers, simply. "And I'm doing just fine. is there anything else?" 

"I-" Kuroo swallows hard, speechless for once. His eyes rake over Kuroo's face, looking closer, detailing the dark circles and the chapped lips and-

He's not going to ask Kuroo how he is, he's not- "Are you?" he rasps out, heart in his throat. "Fine, I mean."

"Good as can be," Kuroo says, smile close-lipped and bitter. Kei can't even tell if he's being facetious or not. "It was nice seeing you Tsukki,” he says then, and soon he's walking away. From the room, from Kei.

And he's left there, rooted to the floor.

.

.

When he gets home from -a rather small, and stupid- work emergency -some people really shouldn't be allowed to have phones-, it's early afternoon, but it feels like the middle of the night with how he can't think and he feels tired enough to fall into bed and not get out for a long, long while. And still, he knows he wouldn't get much sleep.

After the match yesterday, he managed, if only on account of a long day and a couple shots of whiskey, today, he knows he won’t be that lucky. Sunday afternoons in a city he barely knows anyone in are already depressing enough, with Tsukishima’s icy stare burned into the backs of Tetsuro’s eyelids they are unending.

He pours himself a glass of whiskey from a bottle Kenma gifted him a long time ago, loosens his tie, and undoes the button of his pants, right now Tetsuro doesn’t have the strength to change into something more comfortable, even with his reported hatred of office attire.

And it’s not enough, it-

Fuck it.

The music app on his phone welcomes him like he was away for a year instead of two weeks. Tetsuro hits _play random_ , throws the phone on the dining table, and returns to his place on the couch. Tsukishima’s taking the pills anyways, he still can and Tetsuro hates him a little for that until he remembers that all he has heard from the blond in the past few weeks as the yellow slowly leeched from his skin, was some stupid restaurant ad.

Even today, Tsukishima said he left the headset on purpose and made no attempt to get it back, even though it’s the fancy, noise-canceling type that costs _a lot_ more than a headset should. 

Maybe he doesn’t want to bother Tetsuro, or maybe he just wants to forget about him completely and the music would hit too close to home.

Somehow it’s the last thought that hurts the most, he probably should be happy that he mattered enough for that, hell, maybe even take it as a sign that Tsukishima wasn’t quite so deceiving as Tetsuro thought at first -which, of course, he wasn’t, part of him knows that but he can’t help but doubt-. But the thing is that thinking of Tsukishima without music feels unnatural, something mild, something that could be overcome and easily fixed wouldn’t do that.

He ours himself another drink, and the phone keeps playing.

_And all of the songs were about you_

_And all of the songs were about you_

_And all of the songs were about you_

It’s getting dark outside, and he's in his fourth drink by the time someone raps on the door, impatient. Hopefully, it won't be that annoying upstairs neighbor that Tetsuro has had to tell several times that he doesn’t want to be part of the landscaping committee or whatever that thing is.

He stands up slowly. Not swaying because he’s not a lightweight, but he does feel a little uninhibited. Maybe it’d be best not to open it, but the alcohol gives him courage, and Tetsuro _can_ face a tiny woman with huge glasses and even bigger hair. 

Only that’s not her on the other side. Not at all. 

It’s stupid that Tetsuro feels a sense of déjà vu. After all, even if the image is similar, the world has bee upturned since the last time Tsukishima showed up at his door like this. And Tetsuro still hasn’t found his footing in this new world.

He should close the door, it might be the best, for both of them.

But he’s tipsy and Tsukishima looks pale and ragged and his hair is longer than usual. Tetsuro meets his eyes, prepares to open his mouth even though he has no idea what he should say and that’s when Tsukishima cuts him off, voice shaky. In fact, when Tetsuro looks close enough, he can tell that the blond’s lips are shaking a little. “Here-“ he says, holding out a box that Tetsuro hadn’t even registered on his first look. “-you left some things back at my place. I thought you would want them back.”

Tetsuro blinks at him, then reaches out for the box. “Right.” He says, and only when his fingertips brush Tsukishima’s does he notice that the blond’s are freezing cold. It’s not surprising, though, because the other’ wearing ratty sweatpants and a thin t-shirt and there already is a chill in the air. “I do have your headset-“ he swallows against the pressure that has somehow suddenly built up in his throat- “Do you want me to bring it?”

The blond looks down, grimacing as he quickly snatches his hands from under the box and tucks them behind his back. “No, I left them for a reason.” He grits out. “I don't think I missed anything—” he glances at the box in Tetsuro’s hands. “But tell me if I did.”

And then he’s turning to leave, for once, the locked up, wanting part of Tetsuro takes control. Before he knows it, the box has clattered to the floor beside the door and his fingers are, instead, wrapped around the blond’s icy wrist. Tsukishima looks at him, eyes wide and glassy. “What?” he asks, and it’s barely a whisper.

Tetsuro bites the inside of his cheek, he could say it’s nothing, he could keep falling. There has to be a bottom to this thing, right? It’s cowardly and not his style but it’s also definitely what he should do. It might be better for both of them. “You don’t have to stop listening to-“ he looks up at the blond’s golden eyes, suddenly feeling a little helpless. “-I can bear it, you don’t have to punish-“

“I’m not.” Tsukishima snaps, tearing his hand away then looking at the place Tetsuro just touched like he was burned. “It’s not all about you.” He hisses, a little less loudly. “And it’s none of your business, shouldn’t you be glad?”

And then Tetsuro is shooting out again, and this time he’s grabbing with enough force that Tsukishima can’t tear off his grasp. “And I told you I’m not that kind of person!” he growls. “What is it then? If it’s not all bout me?”

Tsukishima sighs, his forearm goes limp in Tetsuro’s grasp, a dead weight. “I just don’t want to Kuroo.” He looks up, hurt amber eyes taking Tetsuro’s breath away. “Can’t you let it go?”

Of course, Tetsuro can't, or he would have never asked. But what’s the other option? If he doesn’t let go what does he do? It’s not like he can fix something that was broken at its foundation, and it’s not like he could soften the way he behaved back in Tokyo because that’s already in the past. So, really, what can he do if he won't -if he can’t- let go.

 _He_ is still falling, there are no footholds, no stops along the way. And though he has no idea what to do, his body seems to find a way to fill in the blank easily enough, when Tetsuro tugs on his grip on Tsukishima’s arm and crushes his lips to the blond’s.

Tsukishima doesn’t even struggle, his arms fall limp to the sides as his mouth melts open for Tetsuro. It’s the only thing that feels right, the only thing he could do because letting the blond go would have hurt too much. 

At least it seems to be a shared opinion, because Tsukishima becomes completely pliant, body pressing itself to Tetsuro’s, molding to his every touch like he’s just run out of strength to fight it. To fight anything.

A better man might stop himself, a better man might realize this is only going to make it harder in the long run and that despite the lying, Tsukishima doesn’t deserve that. And maybe Tetsuro is that better man sometimes, maybe he tries to be. But right now he’s at the end of his rope from missing someone he sent away himself, right now he’s sick of falling through the darkness when Tsukishima is literally right here and if he’s going to keep falling at least he can do it holding on to the blond.

In fact, he doesn’t care if he keeps falling, so long as he can keep holding on to the blond.

Tsukishima moans into his mouth. “Inside.” arms already around Tetsuro’s neck. And there aren’t questions, no requests for an explanation. Which is lucky because Tetsuro has no answers, he only knows this is the most whole he has felt since he heard the door of Akaashi and Bokuto’s apartment click shut.

He guides the blond inside between kisses, tasting his mouth as its taste mingles with the whisky he was drinking earlier. The box ends up kicked to some corner of the room and the door slams shut due to some current of wind that neither of them felt. It would be creepy except neither cares. 

The blond’s hands grip at Tetsuro’s hair, short fingernails scratching at his scalp. He barely lets Tetsuro get any air at all as their legs tangle and they almost end up on the floor several times on the way to his room.

Distantly he can hear his phone, still playing a song.

_In good time, you'll come to know_

_When you release, when you let go_

_You can find yourself where you belong (belong, belong)_

And a part of Tetsuro is delighted, almost giddy, until he throws Tsukishima on the bed and notices the tear sliding down his left cheek. And just as the rapture began, it wanes abruptly and Tetsuro finds himself too weak, the feeling of betrayal that fueled him before stunted. He leans in, knee bracing on the bed, warm hands brushing off the tear sliding down Tsukishima’s icy skin. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

It’s only when Tsukishima looks up at him, eyes full of disbelief, that he realizes the wording there may not have been the best. Tetsuro sighs, he doesn’t even know how to talk to Tsukishima now, especially in this position, with what they were about to do. “No, I’m fine, don’t worry.” The blond answers, so low that Tetsuro almost misses it. 

He goes to pull back his hand, but, faster than Tetsuro can do it Tsukishima’s fingers wrap around it. “Tsukki-“ he starts, voice trembling with the last of the restraint that Tetsuro didn’t have in the first place. “-don’t-“

But Tsukishima turns his face to the side, pale as he is, tired as he looks, the way his neck stretches is still lovely. And when his mouth opens and pink lips suck in two of Tetsuro’s fingers into his mouth the little recess of restraint becomes wet paper in front of a speeding train.

As much as the mental realization is quick, Tetsuro’s body takes a few seconds to catch up. First, he puts weigh on the knee that’s braced on the bed, then the other comes up, bracketing Tsukishima’s slim hips on the other side, all while all that occupies his conscious thoughts is how warm Tsukishima’s mouth is, how wet, how-

He moans around Tetsuro’s fingers, and a leg comes up to hook over his left hip. 

“You’re too much-“he rasps, sliding the fingers further in, relishing the way the blond’s eyes widen before he relaxes and starts sucking on them again, clearly aware of what he's doing, of how the gods themselves couldn’t dislodge Tetsuro from where he is right now. “Tsukki, I- do you _know_ how you look like this?” he smiles a little, taking the fingers out of Tsukishima’s mouth slowly. 

There’s a little string of saliva connecting them to the other’s mouth still.

“No-“ Tsukishima groans, hips bucking up against Tetsuro’s. “But I know you want to- I know you want” Tetsuro cuts him off, mouth meeting the blond’s violently. He tastes blood, but it doesn’t stop him, not with the way Tsukishima’s hands clutch at his shirt, tug at his tie. Not with how he’s moaning.

He’s weak, for him, for this.

That’s something he can live with.

.

.

If it weren't all terribly sad, Kei would laugh at the irony, at all the similarities the whole thing has with the day he and Kuroo got together. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have come here when he heard Kuroo begin listening to music for the first time since they broke up. Maybe he should have gone back to taking the pills to avoid this exact situation. But still, the moment he heard it in his head he grabbed the box with Kuroo’s things -an alarming amount of them, considering how long they actually dated-, and ran out.

And he _walked_ here, in the cold.

A part of him knew he was at the end of his rope. It knew that as easy as it would have been to say no to this, Kei wasn’t going to, not at first, and certainly not now that he’s being covered in that broad chest, pressed to the mattress by the warmth of it in such a way that he can forget for a few seconds how fucked up things really are.

It’s fine, he’s clear what’s happening in his head, he’s not making illusions of reconciliation up in his brain.

They just didn’t have enough time before, with the days they were sick and all. That’s what this is. Even when Kuroo rubs his wide palms over Kei’s forearms and legs until they redden and heat up, even when he cradles his face while Kei kicks off his sweatpants in a hurry.

And especially right now that he's been turned on his front, and after an excruciating round of teasing, finally has two of Kuroo’s talented fingers knuckle deep in his ass. “You’re so tight,” Kuroo growls into his ear, chest pressed tight to Kei’s back, freehand toying with a nipple that’s long oversensitive from being bitten. “Missed me?”

And normally Kei would grow embarrassed of the sounds the stimulation draws from him, normally he would tell Kuroo to cut it out, but not this time. He takes it, hands curled into fists so tight that he worries about how Kuroo’s sheets might look after. “Yeah-“ Kei grits out, a moan distorting the answer, hips mindlessly bucking backward. Even like this Kuroo is nothing if not careful and thorough with him.

Even if Kei would have taken a lot less preparation without much of a protest.

Wow, he’s acting like a slut today.

Well, better that than feeling pathetic, better that than having left like a kicked dog. 

-this is not a good idea, that’s not what he's thinking at all. At the very least Kei is self-aware enough that he’s being stupid. But this is one of those things everyone gets a free pass at being an idiot at. So he’s damn well going to do it, damage control can wait until later-

“Oh ho, needy-” Kuroo says, twisting his fingers inside Kei, almost cruelly milking his prostate with pinpoint accuracy as Kei squeals, rutting back. “-you did miss me, baby.”

Kei wants to snarl something back at him, mostly because the smugness in his voice brings back memories that are way too sweet for what they’re doing right now. In a short moment of clarity, he wishes, more than anything that he knew what’s going through Kuroo’s mind right now. If he’s as broken up about it as Kei if he even cares.

If he’s doing this because he wants to or if it’s just some sort of pity for the idiot that blew up his life through unfounded fears and dragged Tetsuro down with him. 

But then Kuroo slips another finger in, and he’s relentless. It’s like he knows par of Kei’s mind is making a knot out of itself and is striving to shut it up.

And he does

Absolutely.

Because the next thing Kei does is howl his name, or a plea, or both those things, and Kuroo can clearly not wait anymore. He reaches for the nightstand's drawer, retrieving a condom from it. Something inside Kei protests, they never used them back when they were together.

But they’re _not_ together now, and though he can’t be sure about Kuroo, _he_ has been with someone else. 

So he concentrates on his breathing instead, on keeping his back arched and not thinking too deeply about things that might upset him visibly. It’s easy enough when Kuroo likes himself up and thrusts in roughly.

Too rough, Kei whines, wordlessly trying to keep his breathing under control. He was well prepared, but the older mn is not letting up, and fingers are squeezing his hips so hard that he can already feel the bruises popping up on the pale skin there.

It’s fine, he can cover those. 

Kuroo thrusts harder, and after the initial shock it all turns pleasurable, Kei’s no virgin, and Kuroo knows his body well, even with the short time they spent together. “Harder, fuck, Kuroo.”

He hears the chuckle. And he knows just what it means, Kei’s thighs spread open wider, forearms firm on the bed, expecting what's coming, knowing he’s going to be shaky enough that he’s going to end up pressed into the bed anyways.

And that’s exactly what happens, a hand snakes around Kei’s body and starts jerking him off, bringing him over the edge embarrassingly quickly.

It’s embarrassing that the night comes in bits and pieces after that. He remembers Kuroo’s voice, almost sweet, telling him to hold on a little more, calming him down when he was at a point of overstimulation that had him restless and clawing at the sheets with the slightest touch.

What is even more embarrassing because Kuroo was the one drinking before it all happened, not Kei.

The older man must’ve cleaned him up at some point before he turned away from Kei and curled up on his side, two pillows over his ears, seemingly sound asleep. 

What is he supposed to do now?

That one is easy because he _has_ to get out of here, no matter what he’s _supposed_ to do. So Kei slips out of the bed as silently as he can. Luckily most of his things are relatively easy to find, and though he does have to crawl under Kuroo’s bed for his t-shirt he manages to do it soundlessly enough.

Does he wake the other up?

No, that one is easy too. Kei pads out of the room, finding his shoes in the corridor, eyeing the whiskey bottle beside the couch for a second before discarding the idea.

He’s numb as he walks out and down the stairs, calling a cab from an application in his phone without even blinking at the address that has irritated him for the last two weeks. Somehow, there’s little pain to his frozen, half-crumbled inside as he climbs in and lets his head lay against a window for the entire ride back to his apartment.

Kageyama is just getting in too, he takes one look at the bright purple hickey on Kei’s collar bone and his rumpled clothing before calling the elevator. “I was really wrong about Kuroo, huh?” he mumbles under his breath, and when Kei’s head snaps towards him, he sighs. “I figured you two would come out well on the other side.”

“Yeah, you were wrong,” Kei says, voice hollow to his own ears. 

Kageyama looks away. “The team I’m going to be with in Italy doesn’t have dorms," he says wanly. “They said they recommended I start looking if I don’t want to be seeing high rents or a two-hour commute.”

Surprised at the change of topic, Kei cranes his head to the side. “You'll be leaving earlier, won’t you?”

Kageyama shrugs. “Or I could just go for a few weeks and find one to rent even while I’m here, I have the money.”

Kei croaks out a laugh. “Sure, King. Take a vacation.”

And Kageyama shoots back. “You should too.” 

The elevator stops, Kageyama brushes a hand over Kei’s shoulder on his way out. Yeah, if he stays here, around everything that hurts, he might just explode. As he catches up with Kageyama, he grins for what feels like the first time in years. “I want to go to all the museums.”

Kageyama shrugs. “Whatever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there's a point in this chapter where my writing got way too flowery, that said, I kinda like it.  
> I do admit, it's pretty sad  
> I think there's two or three chapters left here, thanks to all of you for reading!  
> I always love reading your opinions!!
> 
> Love! Kyrye


	9. I didn't have it in myself (to go with grace)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions are made, realizations hit like literal trains, maybe this one is a bit healthier, if you think that sometimes healthy also means running away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is, in a large part, Kuroo (cuz bby needed to go through a whole lot of thinking and I didn't want it to happen off-screen) although we do get to see Tsukki clearing his head a little.  
> Also, do remember that I'm evil.  
> Than you all for your support.

At some point, drifting through the thick nebula of that one second right before he falls asleep for good, Tetsuro noticed the weight on the other side of his bed lifting off the mattress.

At that moment, while at the edge of the precipice of sleep, he found himself unable to do anything but drift off. Nothing he could have done would have bought about anything good anyways. Probably. Things don't just fix themselves right now.

So knows he's alone on the bed before he fully wakes up. He knows it deep in his gut, even before he consciously remembers Tsukishima leaving. It's a palpable shift that he can't ignore even as he comes to, mouth and eyes dry, limbs stiff from going to sleep naked with just one blanket on top of him.

By the time he _really_ comes to, the groan in his throat morphing into a whine as he straightens his back, he doesn’t know if he should be enraged or simply not surprised.

Maybe there weren’t many words said last night, but neither of them is the kind to kiss and make up like that. The intent was clear, no paper-thin façade could have hidden it. 

Still, it doesn’t make him feel better.

It makes him feel more... _used_ , more like, _he_ might not have been able to leave so swiftly. More like, maybe Tsukishima isn’t half as shaken up and Tetsuro thought he would be, and somehow that hurts.

Outside, the sky is a sickly, overcast grey, not a shade of blue peeking through. He sits up on the bed, staunchly refusing to look at its other side, or at the headset hanging from the door handle to his bedroom, in plain sight. 

Within five minutes he has called in sick to work -claiming the cold ‘came back worse’, which made his boss audibly shiver and tell him to take the whole week off if necessary-, within ten he has stepped out of a too-warm shower that’s almost left his skin raw. And within half an hour, Tetsuro is on a train to Tokyo -Tsukishima’s headset in his lap because he somehow couldn’t bear to leave it in the empty apartment-, not too sure who he’s going to, but pretty sure he has no one in Sendai anyways.

And that if he stays in that apartment that smells of the one person he has ever fallen in love with, he might just shave his head.

Time in the train passes by unbearably slow, but indistinct. It’s one long, dull minute that lands him and his dulled mind at the train station in Tokyo, letting his legs take him where they might. At least he still has his public service card, and when he stands in front of a bus stop, waiting for one of the ever impunctual buses, he knows where he’s going.

It’s not like anyone else will be home at ten in the morning on a Monday. And even if Kenma isn’t either, he has some decent stone steps covered by an awning at the front of his house. That’s enough for Tetsuro, so long as he’s not freezing or in pain, who cares if he’s back on his couch in Sendai or on the steps of Kenma’s house in Tokyo.

He arrives, stomach growling, and braves the path to the entrance of the house, which is slightly taken over by weeds. Kenma should really get a gardener or something to tend to that and the small garden on the back of the house. It's not like he’s going to do it himself after all.

Of course, even though the former setter is technically self-employed, even he isn’t around. Tetsuro even rings the bell in that obnoxious -short pulses that repeat over like a minute, with barely any silent time between them- way he knows Kenma hates. But it’s fine, he was prepared for this much. Maybe he could call Kenma, though…

Nah, Tetsuro simply pulls the sleeves of the hoodie he’s wearing over his hands and presses his back to the wall of the house, sliding down until his ass hits the ground, pretty sure the banister and the overgrowth of bushes and weeds will keep him out of curious eyes in the main road.

It’s cold, full-blown autumn now. 

And he really wonders if it was not a mistake to run away to his best friend’s house just because he didn’t think he was doing anything right with every breath he took back in Sendai. After all, he seems to do shit wrong everywhere.

But at least here he’s far away from Tsukishima, where he can feel and think beyond the forced neutral of the blond’s voice and the undeniable hurt behind his eyes. Those feelings and thoughts may not be getting him anywhere right now, but it’s not like the freefall of knowing Tsukishima and his sad eyes are within driving distance is any better.

So he stares over the banister, at the birds covering the branches of the nearby trees and the few that are curious enough to stand on the sanded wood and take a peek at Tetsuro. For a second he wonders if they're not just wondering if he’s food, but birds don’t do that, right? At least not small ones like this. Prometheus had eagles, that's different.

He must drift off at some point because the next thing he feels is a foot softly nudging his thigh. He looks up to find two familiar faces. Hinata looks a little alarmed, brow furrowed in concern -it’s probably not every day that he finds a grown man asleep at the door of his boyfriend’s house-. Kenma, however, simply presses his lips together tightly. “You’re alive.”

Tetsuro groans, pushing himself off the ground. “Well, the birds certainly didn’t eat me.”

Kenma narrows his eyes at him. “ _What_?”

“Nothing Kitty Cat. I just wanted to visit.”

“Riiiight-“

“This is about Tsukishima isn’t it?” Hinata blurts out, and Tetsuro allows himself to look at the ginger, like the name itself is the knife stuck between his fourth and fifth ribs, left side. “I- I heard, god, fine, don’t look at me like I just killed a puppy." and then he mumbles. "It's not like you're the one that got the worst of it."”

He huffs, as Kenma unlocks the door.

The ginger is inside before Tetsuro can actually answer him. Kenma just sighs. “I was wondering when you were going to end up here,” he says calmly, pulling out his smartphone. “Do you want Mexican for lunch, you’re pale.”

“Sure,” Tetsuro says, stepping fully inside, noticing for the first time since this morning how full his bladder is. “I didn’t really have breakfast. Can I use your bathroom real quick?”

Kenma looks up at him like he’s just said something crazy. They stopped asking permission for most things from each other half a decade ago, possibly even earlier. “You know where it is.” The dark-haired man shrugs. “It’s still a bit hot for the kotatsu, don’t you think?” 

Tetsuro smiles a little to himself, gaze drifting down to where his fingernails hare starting to turn a concerning shade of pale-purple. “Plug it on.” He says softly before he heads down one of the side corridors -what does Kenma need a house this big for? It’s just him and the cats and sometimes, _sometimes_ Hinata- to the guest bathroom.

He takes care of his business quickly, almost perfunctorily. And though distantly, he realizes his lips are the same tone as the beds of his nails, there isn’t much he can do about that right now except go lie under Kenma’s kotatsu until he feels like a boiled potato and hope either Overlord or Paladin grace him with their presence -it’s _just_ what Kenma would name two overweight cats, Tetsuro usually scoffs a little at the thought of the names, but today he doesn’t have the energy for that-.

This is a rather juvenile reaction to the whole thing, he realizes. But then, he has literally no experience. The few, short, far-in-between partners he has had have always been clean, mutual breaks. 

No harm, no foul.

Or so it has always felt, maybe Tetsuro is paying for multiple counts of obliviousness.

The greatest being Tsukishima, he supposes as his legs slip under the soft fabric of the kotatsu and he lets his back fall on the mat behind him. Kenma comes around soon enough, placing a bottle of soda in front of Tetsuro and dropping into a sitting position beside Tetsuro. 

Distantly, he notices Hinata padding into the kitchen, clearly trying to be inconspicuous -and failing because he has bright orange hair and this isn’t a game-.”I thought he was supposed to be in Osaka.” He glances at Kenma. “Sorry I interrupted.”

The other man shrugs, taking a drink from his own soda bottle. “He’s leaving in the afternoon.” Kenma answers, looking a little wistful, leaning back on his palms. “Maybe I should move to Osaka, it’d be a lot less work for everyone involved.”

Tetsuro pulls a face at him. “Except for your wonderful best friend who’d be twice as far away.” He says jokingly, trying to stay as still as possible when he notices a pair of green eyes watching him from the corner that leads to the kitchen.

Kenma smiles. “You’re a big shot exec, you can handle the train fares.”

“I’m a corporate monkey.” Tetsuro laughs wryly, none too subtly putting his arms above his head as Paladin comes closer, his white fur spotless. “But maybe in a few years.” The cat cuddles up to him, taking a couple huffs of Tetsuro’s smell then happily curling into his side. Warm spot, he supposes. 

“Not if you skip out on work,” Kenma says softly, almost carefully, but still clearly leading him somewhere. “Why are you in Tokyo, Kuro?”

“Would you believe me if I said I have work down here this afternoon?” Tetsuro sighs, bringing an arm around the kneading cat at his side, gaze fixed on the ceiling, belly curling in on itself like he has just been punched. 

Kenma hums. “Maybe if you were a good liar.”

For a moment, Tetsuro debates just not saying anything, trying to fall asleep again under the warm kotatsu with the cat purring into his side. At least he’s comfortable and Kenma won’t push, especially with Hinata here. He wishes he were someone who processed things internally, he wishes the rage-guilt-whatever-it-is wasn’t pulsing right under his skin. “I slept with Tsukki.” He turns his gaze on Kenma, opening his mouth to clarify that it’s probably not a good thing, when the sound of porcelain breaking startles them both.

“S-sorry!” Hinata calls, voice coated with guilt. “It’s just a cup, I’ll sweep it up now”

Kenma rolls his eyes and Tetsuro huffs. “If you’re going to eavesdrop at least come over here, I kinda need to ask someone that knows him, and I’m sure you’re the only one of your old team that’s not about to kill me.” 

There's the sound of the broken remains of the cup being swept up into a dustpan and then Hinata peeks out of the corner, face strangely even. “I wouldn’t say that Kuroo-san.” He replies, in a tone so calm that it makes the hairs on the back of Tetsuro’s neck stand on end. 

Maybe it was too bold a move, as the room feels smaller than before, and when Hinata ducks back into the living room, hands shoved in the pockets of the sweatpants he’s wearing, it seems to get smaller still, and a little suffocating. The ginger drops to a sitting position beside Kenma, legs greedily seeking the heat under the kotatsu. 

“Well, I’m defenseless here,” Tetsuro says, gaze drifting to the ceiling again. “Besides, the cat might kill me if I move anyways, so…” he looks at Hinata out of the corner of his eye. “He told you guys this quick?”

The ginger laughs then, short and a little disbelieving. “Maybe he told Kageyama, what am I going to know? Those two are thick as thieves.” He leans forward on the kotatsu table. “I meant that you broke his heart bad after he told you that he’s your soulmate.”

Tetsuro’s brow furrows. “After _he_ told me?” He turns his eyes on Kenma.

The other man shrugs. “We don’t exactly talk about you guys,” He turns to Hinata. “Is that what he said?”

Hinata cranes his head to the side, upper lip curling in distaste. “Nah, I just figured, since he was planning to tell-“ he rolls his eyes at Tetsuro. “Don’t make that face at me, getting info from Kageyama is like drawing water from a rock and Tsukishima only said a text to the group chat that said you two were over and not to mention you.” He stops to think for a second. “Wait, not even that, I think Yamaguchi sent that, anyway, at the start of this month he said he was going to tell you.”

Tetsuro lets his head drop back into the floor, it’s not hard enough to hurt, but the back of his head stings a little. Well, that sorts out what Tsukishima was treating like a National Secret and wanted to talk about that day. But of course, his liver decided that was just the week to fail. Not that it would have made any difference.

Or would it?

He groans. “Nah, I found out because my liver went to hell and I had to stop taking the pills.” He closes his eyes, a sigh leaving his throat. “And here I thought you were still pretty close to Kageyama.”

Hinata hesitates at that, eyes going a little dark, like some thought he wants nothing to do with just come up to the forefront of this mind. “Not with this,” the ginger explains. “This is what he’s close to Tsukishima about… and anyway, weren’t you saying you two slept together?”

It’s not subtle, but the backstory to that is not a set to either Kenma or Tetsuro -who has heard it from both Kenma and Tsukishima- so he just lets it go. He's the one crashing their happy-couple afternoon, and he really doesn’t want to think about Kageyama right now anyways. He knows enough about what he and Tsukishima have been doing these past few years to at least suspect the blond might’ve run straight to the setter’s arms after they broke up.

Not that it’s any of his business.

“Yeah,” he says, still not opening his eyes. “He showed up at my apartment yesterday, to give back some stuff I left at his and I kissed- Not my brightest moment, but then, he left right after. It must not be bothering him much, he didn’t even care enough to wake me up and say he was leaving.”

There’s a pause then, a very pregnant pause that has Tetsuro opening his eyes to Kenma placing a soothing hand on Hinata's forearm and giving him a warning look. Neither of which works for very long. The ginger glares at Tetsuro. “You know that’s bullshit, right?” he hisses between his teeth. "He wouldn’t even meet us for his _birthday_ this year.”

Ever since high school, there has been a thing about Hinata, something in his face that’s too intangible to determine, but definitely there. Something that changes his face completely, making him seem larger than he is and somewhat threatening. Tetsuro had only ever seen it on the court until today.

On top of it, the ginger seems offended. “Oh ho, you’re privy to his thoughts _now_?” he taunts, he can’t help it. "And-“ Tsukishima's birthday, he didn't remember. "Fuck- I didn't remember."

"Yeah, you're too deep in your own head for that, aren't you?" Hinata’s face scrunches up into disbelieving anger. The kind that can only be mustered for a sibling -even one that one doesn’t quite get along with-. “And no, but so what? You leave him, then you fuck him when he tries to move on-“ the ginger snarls. “-no wonder the poor guy just wanted to get away.”

That hits all the burning points under Tetsuro’s skin, he shoots up -earning a displeased scratch on his arm- and glares at Hinata from under the hair that falls over his forehead. “Well, what should I have said then? I wasn't even expecting him! And I didn’t make him do anything," he hisses, slapping the palm of his hand on top of the table a little too hard. "He didn’t have to- And what’s your point? If being there with me there hurt him that much then why did he-“

He doesn’t even get to finish the sentence, Kenma holds out an arm to stop his fiancé from -quite possibly- mauling Tetsuro, and clears his throat. “Kuro, you’re my best friend-“ he says, voice even. “But I want you to think over the exact words you just said, and take into account the fact that _you_ broke up with _him.”_

Behind him, Hinata nods enthusiastically. “Or, I don’t know-“ he says smugly, seemingly having calmed down a little. “-that the poor bastard was pining for you since high school.”

He’s been holding on to the anger -the excuses- since morning, probably longer, threading it through the folds of his skin like some sort of angry orange, burning thread to hold what’s left of his self-image together. It’s not a surprise then, that his first instinct is to snap. “So what!” at the other two.

Only then does he notice that the way they're both looking at him is only barely anger -in Hinata's case-, and there isn’t petulance there either, it’s all mostly pity and disbelief. And neither of them looks away, even Hinata doesn’t open his mouth to say another word, it’s like they _know_.

It’s like they know that the thread snapped, like they know that the seams of anger are slipping open with record-breaking speed and the gut-deep knowledge of just how _awful_ Tsukishima must’ve felt when he left just bursts out and crashes over him like a wave. 

His eyes drop to the table, his hands start shaking. “I-“ He remembers how easily the blond melted in his eyes, not lust, he recognizes, resignation. “-fuck.” Like the blond couldn’t deny him, not after seven years of keeping it all -the secret, the fact that Tetsuro was always so relentless about staying in his life, and his whole soulmate discourse- on his back only to be kicked out like he wasn't the one taking on the lions share of the suffering, all he could do was-

The doorbell rings, surely the takeout. He sees one of the others stand up and head for the door, but Tetsuro can’t tell which through the tears that are suddenly clouding his vision.

He doesn’t really care either. Right now he’s all guilt, crumbing over the kotatsu table, threads of anger dissolving into the air.

.

.

In the daylight, Kageyama's suggestion -or invitation, maybe?- is even more tempting, especially because Kei took two separate showers and he still smells Kuroo on his skin. 

Of course, it also seems a lot less likely to be something Kei can actually do. He has two jobs, and he's not sure that either will want to give him two weeks of personal time on relatively short notice.

Or so he thought up until a few seconds ago. He glances at the darkening sky outside, maybe he never did get up this morning. 

Mishima is smiling down at him in an almost paternal way. "I trust you're happy with that?" he says, little wrinkles appearing on his forehead. "Or... is there something else you wanted to talk to me about? I do remember hearing you might get some offers, but I didn't think it would happen so soon, we've been doing well, but we also haven't even been playing in V1 for one season."

And then Kei finds himself startled for a whole other reason. "No," he answers. "I haven't heard anything like that. I'm thankful you're giving me the time off, though." He reaches out, grabbing for the knee-pads he laid down on the coach's desk just a few seconds ago. "I'll be back in time for the November training camp."

The older man nods. "That's alright, in three years you have never asked for a vacation. It's only fair." 

He hasn't, has he? It definitely hasn't been on purpose, even when he was drowning in midterms the team's schedule always was somewhat flexible, and volleyball doesn't feel like a chore most of the time even more. He gives the older man a tight smile. "Thank you, then. I'm going back to practice then." He stands up, towering over both Mishima and the desk. 

"Tsukishima-" the man starts, when Kei has already turned around. And it's that tone, the one Sawamura had when he called two days ago, the one that practically has lived in Yamaguchi's throat for the last two weeks. Kei doesn't turn around, he knows the coach is trying to be nice but he's all out of patience for that tone that spells out how unfortunate he is and other stuff he doesn't want to think about. He does stop, however, even Kei is not that rude. "-if you need anything, you know the team always has your back, don't you?"

Kei sighs, hand going for the door handle while the other rises to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, even though they're not slipping at all. "I know." he turns his head to the side a little, just so the older man can see the half-smile that he forces. "Thank you, coach, I probably will still be in practice until the end of this week, but I'll let you know if anything happens."

Thee older man says something else, something that Kei doesn't hear because he's already walking out of the room. He really is all out of patience for pity, or should he just say that every time someone tries to comfort him, he only ends up remembering more of the whole ordeal? Small details he'd never paid a thought to before become apparent, the fact that there was still a faint shade of yellow to the whites of Kuroo's eyes yesterday, the fact that Kei's headphones were hanging off his bedroom door and Kei walked right by and didn't take them, how he hadn't shaved and the incipient beard scratched Kei's cheeks, and chin, and neck. 

And it's twice as bad when he's at work -whether the museum or volleyball-, work is supposed to be his safe haven, so it definitely doesn't do for people to be reminding him that he feels like a used up, crumpled fast-food wrapper, and apparently looks the part too.

At least regular practice is over, and the team's libero wants to practice his digs so Kei gets a good hour of hitting mean spirited jump floaters before it gets too dark outside and they call it quits.

On the way home, Kei can already feel himself tiring, feeling emptier and emptier. This is why work has been his small respite for the past two weeks, the moment he's alone, it starts. Especially when he's outdoors, the air feels thin and the streets feel endless, shadows play games with his tired eyes. The absence of Kuroo becomes an acute, palpable thing that walks with him home and rides on buses on the seat beside Kei. And his absence in Kei's head newly highlighted by that one-hour yesterday when he _was_ very much there -and with Kei, and everywhere-, doesn't help at all.

Needless to say, it's not pleasant. 

He hurries home in between Kuroo's absence and the rush hour traffic, a cigarette that he doesn't light until ten minutes into the walk dangling from his lips. The lower floor of his and Kageyama's building is sectioned into a lobby, a community hall, and a small space with simple couches surrounded by plants that the building association takes care of. All the floors above it have just about the same disposition, U-shaped corridors surrounded on their outside flank by walls apartment doors, a banister protecting the residents from the empty space -a freefall hazard, he always has thought, but in the time Kei has lived here, no one has fallen off-in the middle. The area with the sofas is located directly under that continued empty space, in a way that when one looks up, the glass marquee at the very top of the building allows for a view of Tokyo's over-polluted sky.

Today the couches are occupied by several couples -all wearing matching soulmate bracelets -a trend Kei hates, fucking neon bracelets should be banned for being a slight to his eyes, not to mention a reminder of the TV drama his life has turned into- they seem to be waiting for someone and have no shame in making out while they do. 

Kei's inner old man almost makes a bitter comment in their direction. The level of irrational hate he's feeling towards them is off the charts if he weren't so tired...

But he is, so he doesn't wait for the elevator, and his legs are burning by the time he gets up to his apartment and slips the key in the lock with a grateful sigh.

The smell of pizza assaults hi nose and he all but floats over to the place where Kageyama is curled up on the couch beside a large box where the heavenly scent is coming from. "Pizza on a Monday?" he asks Kageyama, taking a slice and flopping down on the opposite end of the couch.

"I didn't feel like cooking," Kageyama shrugs. "And I didn't say you could have some."

Kei just lifts an eyebrow at him, daringly lifting the slice to his mouth before taking a bite. "So you're going to eat all twelve pieces? And here you were supposed to be the health nut."

Kageyama throws his head back. "Oh, shut up, you better help me finish."

Silence falls over them, warm, almost comfortable, and Kageyama turns on the TV to some Division 2 game that neither of them pays much attention to. "Coach said I could take the time off." Kei is on his third slice of pizza, eyes not drifting from the screen. "As long as I'm back before the November training camp."

Kageyama's eyes turn towards him, a little sparkle in the dark blue. "House hunting when it's too cold sucks anyway," he says, munching on some pizza crust. "What about the museum?"

Actually, the museum hasn't written back since Kei e-mailed the HR representative this morning. They probably won't for like five to eight business days. Kei looks up at Kageyama, that could be a problem, he presses his lips together before sighing. "They said yes too."

It's not like it matters, his volleyball schedule is only getting busier, this is a long time coming. "Cool," Kageyama says, eyes fixed on Kei's face like he knows he's lying. "The guy from Ali said he could get us both tickets as early as Friday night." he takes a bite of the pizza. "I told him we'd think about it."

"Really? Wow, they must be desperate for you if they're being so generous." Kei mulls over it for a second. "I think that's doable," Kei says. "Unless you need more time to pack, your Majesty."

A little smile appears on the corner of Kageyama's mouth. "I'm surprised you don't need more time to overthink it," he says and Kei realizes that, at some point, they've begun leaning towards each other above the pizza box. 

Usually -read: before Kuroo and the relationship that lasted two weeks but it feels like it lasted for several years- this would be the moment where one of them got the pizza to safety and they proceeded to make out on the couch. 

But this is _after_ Kuroo, and Kei finds himself not quite in the mood -besides he still has that hickey-. His eyes find Kageyama's and he leans back, draping himself over the armrest opposite to the setter. "I'm done overthinking," he says, fumbling with the couch cushions that his phone has decided to slip between. "And we might as well, unless you have something to do."

Kageyama looks away, almost wistful when he speaks. "No. I'll tell them to get us the tickets."

"Go ahead." The screen of Kei's phone flares on, Kageyama is polite enough to keep watching the match, and Kei uses the opportunity to start drafting the document.

The words ' _Letter of Resignation_ ' blink up at him from the screen. Yeah, he's done overthinking, at least for the next month.

.

.

The breakdown lasts well into the afternoon. Kenma is wise enough to cut Tetsuro off after two beers, though, so he pushes through it with some shitty game show he's too numb to understand the rules for. Eventually, Tetsuro falls asleep, slumped over the kotatsu, with both cats pressed into h sides.

Tetsuro is thankful for them at least, it's like they know the kneading paws are helping, even if only a little.

Those same paws that wake him up, racing over his back like he's part of an obstacle course.

Weak, dim sunlight is streaming through Kenma's windows, it's clearly not even fully light out. And apparently, Kenma even has enough of a backyard for frogs to be croaking out there.

He finds what scared the cats off is Kenma pouring dry food into two tiny plastic bowls on the floor. The younger man lifts his gaze to meet Tetsuro's and relief fills him visibly. "Are you feeling more clear-headed?" the former setter asks, walking towards Tetsuro with the same wariness one would a scared cat.

It's a little offensive, but Tetsuro is sure that at the height of his epiphany/freak-out/breakdown yesterday, he started speaking Korean, and the only thing that prevented him from singing was that he already felt like enough of an inconsiderate bastard when it comes to Tsukishima and probably popping up in his head singing something sad would have been the cherry on the crappy cake. "I think I fucked up my back sleeping like that."

"You did refuse the perfectly good guest futon." Kenma answers, veering towards the TV on the last second and plugging up one of his consoles. "I figured you were trying o punish yourself throwing out your back."

Tetsuro catches the controller that Kenma tosses at him out of the air. "Haha. Funny." Even his voice sounds hoarse and tired, he sets the controller to the side. "Do you want waffles for breakfast? I kinda did crash here out of the blue yesterday."

Kenma looks at him for a long moment. "Well, you don't have to..." the former setter says. "But you're just gonna sulk if I don't let you so... the chocolate chips are behind the coffee jar." He stands up and heads for the kitchen. Letting his mind get lost on the mechanical process, it's not the first time he's thought of it in the last few weeks, but he really could use a game right now. By the time he comes back, Kenma is passing hat looks like an extremely difficult level with a somewhat bored look on his face. Tetsuro gently lays the pancake plates on the kotatsu table and doubles back for the coffee.

By the time he comes back Kenma has set down the controller and is stuffing his face with waffles, Tetsuro drops in front of him, sighing. He would say something, but he doesn't know what to say other than admit to being an ass for the millionth time since yesterday.

At least Kenma gives him the mercy to wait until he's done eating. "So, what are you going to do?

Tetsuro shrugs his shoulders. "Apologize-" he says without much conviction, voice hollow. "But he's not going to want to see my face right now, I guess I'll wait."

Kenma picks up the controller again, and this time Tetsuro does the same. "Just wait? Really?"

"What else? I'm just making things worse." Tetsuro's shoulders slump. It's the truth, right now he doesn't trust himself to do right by an apology if he had Tsukishima in front of him. Especially when all he really wants is to fix things, and he's not sure if that's something that can even be done at this point. "He probably wants some space anyways."

Even if Tsukishima wants to, which he's in his every right not to.

Kenma hums, the sound dripping exasperation like he's dealing with a child that just won't see reason. But that's when the doorbell rings and he lifts his head towards it. "That's Bokuto."

And why would Bokuto just drop by? Tetsuro narrows his eyes at his oldest friend. "You got me a babysitter?"

"I have a meeting, besides-" he wrinkles his nose at Tetsuro. "-I told him to bring you some clothes, you slept in those."

Tetsuro might be offended if he didn't need a change of clothes, he doesn't want to rip the back of one of Kenma's shirts like the last time he was here. So he sighs. "I'm gonna go shower." He stands up. "There's leftover waffles if he wants them."

Maybe this will be good for him, maybe, but somehow he can't quite muster up the enthusiasm. At least Bokuto won't cut him off after two beers.

.

.

“Wait, you’re going to Italy on _Friday_? Why?” Akiteru’s voice is a little panicked like Kei has just confessed to something grave. “Are you ok? What about work?”

Kei hums, toeing off his shoes and holding the phone between his ear and shoulder. “I’m helping Kageyama house hunt.” He says, matter-of-fact and as calm as he can. “And apparently I’ve never used my vacation days with the Frogs, I didn’t even know I had any.”

“I thought that was what the off-season was,” Akiteru says. “But don’t try to derail me, dammit!” he huffs. “What’s going on Kei?”

The thing is he never got around to telling Akiteru he was dating Kuroo. And he was probably right to do that since his worst-case scenario came true because those would be two more eyes watching him with care and pity like he's somehow broken, and Akiteru is close enough that he might come camp out in Kei’s couch just to know he’s ok. “I just needed a change.” He insists, walking into his bedroom. “There's nothing for you to worry _about_.”

Someone, likely Saeko although it could always be the other Tanaka -who Kei refuses to be familiar enough with to call by his first name, even though they're in-laws- they have strikingly similar voices sometimes, yells something behind Akiteru, and Kei’s brother tells him to hold on a second.

All in all, it seems t be going well, no visits or telling his mother Kei’s doing concerning things have been threatened, so far. He busies himself by laying out some pajamas on his bed until Akiteru’s voice comes back. “You’re not moving to Italy with Kageyama-kun, are you?” his brother asks.

“What gives you that idea?” Kei asks, frowning. “I don’t even speak Italian, what would I do there?”

“I don’t know.” Akiteru goes quiet for a second, then asks, carefully, like he’s trying to catch a goldfish at a festival. “I figured you two might be dating or something.”

Nd Kei is having a pretty awful month, but he can’t help but laugh at that. “No-“ he laughs again. He and Kageyama are so close that they could never be _that_ kind of close. Not at this point in their lives, at least. “-of course not, what the hell, Aki? You better not have told mom-“

“Mom _is_ the one that suspects it the most,“ Akiteru says, laughing too, at least the topic diffuses some of the tension in the phone call. “She always says she’s so grateful that he takes care of you.”

“That slob barely washes his own dishes.” Kei huffs. “Look, I’m fine. I’m going to take a look at the museums while Kageyama is stuck finding an apartment. You don’t have to worry about me Akiteru, I’m not a child.”

For all his brother might be more mild-mannered than Kei, he sure knows how to make it extremely clear that he doesn’t believe him through just a scoff. “Promise to call me if anything happens.” He says, voice serious. “And you’re telling mom, I’m not going be a go-between when she wants to know every step you’re going to be taking over there.”

“What’s going to happen?” Kei rolls his eyes, collapsing back on his bed. “I’m going to Rome, not the Amazon jungle. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Don’t tell me that.” There’s a crash somewhere in Akiteru’s vicinity, a crash, and a lot of cursing that can only be Saeko because even Tanaka doesn’t have that kind of a potty mouth. The older man groans. “I have to go, ok? I think that kitchen’s on fire.” He stops for a second. “But I mean it Kei, keep us in the loop.”

Kei manages to mumble his assent, just as the line goes silent. Kageyama isn’t home yet, the apartment is silent too, and he didn’t even turn on any lights on his way in, soo he’s just there, alone, the only light nearby coming from his desk lamp.

But it’s useless too let himself dwell, as much as he wants to, as much as it’s the only way to feel Kuroo close to him, it only hurts more. Especially when he _can_ see where the other man is coming from, even if he does wish it were any other way. 

Because really, the one thing doing _that_ over the weekend with Kuroo made clear was that he misses the older man to hell and back, and he definitely would not have been able to leave that bed if he had let himself get too comfortable.

Hypotheticals are poison, as always. Kei turns over on the bed, tugging off his glasses ans looking at the pajamas he set out. It’s the same set Kuroo wore that time he stayed here to take care of him. He ignores the wetness in his eyes and the overbearing desire to put on some music to match his disastrous mood.

Rome won’t be too hot this time of the year, he better pack at least one coat.

.

.

"How do you even get to be in Tokyo so often?" Tetsuro asks. Wednesday morning finds him and Bokuto sitting on the front steps of Kenma's house, both swaying slightly. There's an empty pack of cigarettes on Tetsuro's lap.

Bokuto shrugs his shoulders, leaning back on his hands, he gave Tetsuro his jacket an hour ago, and this arms bulge int he tight t-shirt he's wearing. "Hey, I haven't been here since my birthday." he huffs. "I only got to come this week cuz we have a lot of games the next too." He looks down. "It's hard on 'kaashi to visit, though, it doesn't bother me much."

Tetsuro huffs, sucking on the filter of the last cigarette. "And you haven't thought of finding a Tokyo team?"

The Owl fiddles with his fingers. "I dunno, I didn't let him switch to a job in Osaka last year because it meant starting from the bottom and I didn't want to-" he blows out his cheeks, turning a copper gaze to Tetsuro. "He knows I love the team, knowing him he'd get mad cuz' I'm putting him first. 'We have time Kou' he's gonna say and I'll just-" he shakes his head. "I really want to."

Maybe it's a little hypocritical, but Tetsuro gives him a disbelieving look. "So your problem is that you care about each other so much that you won't let the other switch jobs?" He snickers. "I'm sure you have good offers too, you could just lay it out like that, y'know?"

Bokuto pouts. "It's not that easy!" he huffs. "And I'm not taking advice from you. You're like the ace of not talking to people about important stuff right now."

"Well, I'm telling you to talk to him!" Tetsuro replies, eyes narrowed. "But yeah, I guess you're right, I'm no example." He draws his knees up and tucks his chin over them. "I wish I could pick one thing to feel about this and stick to it, this sucks."

And that's the thing. All Monday, he was wallowing in guilt and self-loathing, but the more he calmed down his feelings became more of a cocktail of anger, and guilt, and worry. And god knows what else. I would be so much easier if one second he wasn't ready to go find Tsukishima ad beg to fix things, and then the next one -remembering some moment the blond could have told him the truth and didn't- he's raging and just wants to stay far away.

What does that matter anyway? Tsukishima probably doesn't want to see him right now, it's the smart thing to do. Only a masochist would keep trying after Tetsuro rejected him like that.

Hell if he's really technical, he barely let the blond explain himself. after seven years he gave Tsukishima what? Five minutes? He groans, throwing his head back as Bokuto stretches like a cat, the first rays of the sun painting the Owl in bleak, pale yellow. "Well, buddy, I dunno." He shrugs. "Can't really help you with that. If it was me I'd be on my knees in 'kaashi's doorstep. It's not like he did it to hurt you, right?"

Tetsuro laughs, deep and wry. "More like the opposite." He looks down. There's no way for him to know what might happen. Tsukishima was taking soulmate pills too, there isn't even a way for him to try and let the other know how guilty, how crushed he feels. Even if that would be the cowards way out. "I'm going inside," he says, dusting off the borrowed pants he's wearing as he rises. "I'm leaving on the first train."

It's not like there's anything to bring back with him but the clothes he arrived in and Tsukishima's headset. He picks it up and wakes Kenma up -which earns Tetsuro a pillow to the face- to say he's going, then calls a cab that takes him straight to the train station. With some luck, he can change quickly and go to work right after lunch. At least managing to take care of the piled-up paperwork would be a great help, else he's going to be staying late both tomorrow and the day after.

Tetsuro has always liked bullet trains, he finds them a lot more comfortable than other people, but when he sits own in one of the vacant seats, this time, he feels an itch.

And he knows what it's for.

Slowly, almost reverently, he untangles the headset cord from around it and connects it to the phone. Tsukishima probably isn't listening anyway, and, who knows? This might give him some sort of direction. Might help him decide.

Because the ball is well and truly in his court now, and he feels clearer than he has in weeks.

So he presses random.

_And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be_   
_Right in front of me_   
_Talk some sense to me_

Of course, that's the song that lays, but Tetsuro wants to be a little hopeful right now, so he lets it.

.

.

Stupid blue pill.

Kei glares at it as he waits for Kageyama to pack some sensible clothes that _aren’t_ volleyball shorts. Apparently, he just assumed there would be beach weather. At least they have time, still Kei can’t help but direct his worry somewhere. 

Maybe it’s because his head has been scrambled for the past two days, since Kuroo decided he could go back to listening to music and threw Kei, who was just starting to feel a little more normal, for a loop.

At least he doesn’t sing.

And he’s not using Kei’s playlists, even though Kei never told him he stopped taking the pills after the first night they spent together so he probably thinks Kei can't hear him. It’s a weird sort of deference, he supposes, because the fact that he would keep taking them now, with even more reasons to avoid the stupid singing would be a very rational conclusion to get to. 

It’s what Kei should be doing.

But he missed the music, and though he can't bring himself to buy another headset, knowing that _I-don’t-care-for-music_ Kuroo, can’t avoid doing it now feels strangely validating.

At least he’s not the only one who came out of there changes, even if he _is_ the only one that ended up wrecked.

With a huff and a small, muttered curse, Kei picks up the stupid little pill and throws it back in its bottle. Fuck it, he’s wrecked and not even one week out from the break-up sex -because that’s what it was, he realizes, that’s the only thing it was or Kuroo would have shown up by now- he can be masochistic for a little bit and pretend it all means something it doesn’t.

Kageyama trudges out of his room, dragging another, smaller suitcase beside the one he was already going to take. Kei snorts at him. “You didn’t take any of the volleyball clothes out, did you?”

“I’m not taking you to the practice if you keep mocking me.” He tucks the little suitcase on top of the other, medium-sized one almost primly. “I'm only taking what I need.”

Kei goes the suitcases another look -especially beside his own, which is barely the size of Kageyama’s original one. “Sure your Majesty. All of your trousseau too.” He snickers, discreetly pushing the pill-bottle behind a sat shake.

The dig might go over Kageyama’s head, but the movement doesn’t. He frowns. “You’re not taking them?”

Kei shrugs, putting on his calmest face and flicking his fingers at the little bottle. “I don’t need them.” He looks at Kageyama as he slips his own jacket over his shoulders. “Don’t look at me like that, you don’t take them. And I haven’t in like a month. Do you _want_ to have to clean up my puke when we’re in Italy?”

“Your funeral.” The setter says, dragging his stacked suitcases past Kei and opening the door. A gust of biting cold win hits him as the setter steps through the door, Kei gives the bottle one last look and then throws a cursory glance at their living room. Nothing seems out of place, but somehow he feels like he’s leaving at entirely the wrong time, like he left the gas stove on.

“You want a picture?” Kageyama calls from the corridor, and Kei hurries after him, letting the other lock the door and call the cab. For what it’s worth, Kageyama has been an excellent person to bear while Kei processes this breakup, he’s sure Tadashi or Akiteru would have gone crazy from how slow he’s going already.

At least Kageyama feeds him pizza and doesn’t ask the questions Kei doesn’t want to answer.

Even with the usual traffic jams, the cab gets them to the airport quickly enough. It’s barely getting dark, and their flight is at seven, but they have a connection in Tokyo that they definitely can’t miss. Kei just hopes he can get some sleep. He hasn't been on a flight this long in a few years. 

But he somehow doesn’t think it’s going to be an issue, even with Kuroo blasting music away, after all, the further you get fro your soulmate, the more muffled the music is supposed to get, and what’s further than cruising altitude? Or Italy? Maybe it will be a little buzz he doesn’t even notice, maybe it’ll be bearable, and that can be the beginning of him actually starting to get over it.

Their flight is called to their boarding door, Kageyama elbows him on the side and Kei dares to hope he’s right.

And if he isn’t, he can at least drown it all in wine and gelato, and that might be a start too.

.

.

Getting in on Wednesday afternoon was _not_ enough.

Mostly because he got whisked away to handle some press conferences the minute after he stepped one foot inside the office. _That_ wasn’t over until late in the afternoon, so Tetsuro has been here trying to sort out his paperwork since early yesterday -not counting the game he had to attend to last night, of course-.

He’s almost done now, though, only a letter to proofread. 

He slides the headset off his ears and leaves it hanging from his neck. He should be feeling bad for using someone else’s things without permission, but Tsukishima did abandon it in Tokyo and has refused the opportunity to get it back several times.

Which Tetsuro doesn’t really understand, though it’s not the latest model, it’s fancy, noise-canceling, and from a rather well-known brand. It must’ve been expensive to buy. And it really did suit the blond, the fine green lines bringing out the gold in his hair and eyes by contrast.

So maybe he can adopt the poor headset. 

Besides, he’s used it a lot these past two days, almost as if he can’t get enough of the music. Whatever his music app designs as appropriate, since going into Tsukishima’s playlists seems a little too personal -and he would be too tempted to listen to the one that he’s about ninety-nine percent sure is for him-.

He leans forward on his desk, eyes flying over the words of the letter he has to print and send to be able to get out of here without reading them.

A rush of anticipation fills his chest, he has been doubting, plotting, planning in the back of his mind. Maybe that’s why he’s so obsessed with the music, some of his ideas were too out of left field to even be something he could consider actually doing. Some others were too understated, too casual, and he doesn’t want to make Tsukishima feel like an afterthought, not now.

So he’s settled for something in the middle, go to him at some decent time, bring some sort of peace offering and the headset. Then go in, say he’s sorry for being an ass and let Tsukishima talk, and maybe, maybe if Tsukishima still-

No, let Tsukishima talk.

That’s all, that’s the plan, and whatever happens, happens. He’ll give it his best shot and hope its enough. 

On his way out, he catches one of the stupid coffee commercials playing in the small TV on the employee’s lounge. Tsukishima grins as the girl kisses his cheek, and Tetsuro remembers the moment so clearly that he has to rub his eyes to remind himself he's not in that studio with the blond once more. 

The Frogs don’t have any games this week, still, maybe it would be best to do it on Sunday.

.

.

If he keeps pressing this pillow around his head he’s going to end up looking like Kuroo. And Kei definitely couldn’t pull that birds nest look off- 

He’s not thinking about Kuroo being hot right now, is he? Although in his defense, this is the fifth hour out of a sixteen-hour flight -counting their scale, Kei’s mind is raging a little too hard right now for him to remember exactly where they’re making it- and he’s pissed off enough to get very, very mean. 

At first, Kei was so sure he was going to be able to sleep. He was very tired and wearing his most comfortable sweatpants, and even Kuroo went quiet for a little while and he took the chance to wrap himself up in the airline blanket and get comfortable. And just when he was about to fall asleep, a baby started crying -more like screaming like a banshee-. And then there was some turbulence, and then someone got caught fucking in the restroom.

Now it’s silent, but Kei can’t sleep anyway, and he’s irritated enough to start thinking of Kuroo as hot again.

Usually, he would have had his headset to tide him over at least through the screaming baby, but he has decided to be stubborn, and even if he were willing to give in, the crappy earbuds the airline provides are not going to be touching his ears, thank you very much.

He pushes the blanket off his chest with a huff, directing a mean glare at Kageyama, who fell asleep _during_ the screaming baby ordeal, and has been blessedly under Morpheus' spell since. Maybe Kei should nudge him or something, make sure he’s still alive.

Later.

He crosses his arms angrily over his chest, he can see the refreshment’s cart coming towards him slowly. He sighs, this is a poor start to a trip that’s supposed to clear his mind. Kei can almost bet all that’s going to happen is that he’s going to gain like four pounds from eating ice cream, and at least one obnoxious person will try to hit on him.

And then the team’s nutritionist will be mad.

Meh, whatever.

It’s not like he has much to think about, now that he’s at cruising altitude, breathing in recycled air and looking at things from a more sedate perspective -Kuroo is there in the back of his head, listening to Taylor Swift of all things, -but he’s less than a murmur and that gives Kei a little bit of sick satisfaction- and Kei can even tell which song it is.

_'Cause cruelty_   
_Wins in the movies_   
_I've got a hundred thrown out speeches_   
_I almost said to you_

He lied to Kuroo in order not to lose Kuroo. Kuroo didn’t want to be with a person who lied to him for seven years, and even after they started a relationship, regardless of the reasons for it -even if, from Kei’s perspective, those reasons at least half-justified him hiding it all from Kuroo- and he left no room for doubt on that count. Then Kei went to give him some stupid pair of socks -and a hoodie, and a stupid phone charm- and when Kuroo, smelling of booze and clearly very much out of his mind, decided to kiss him, Kei couldn’t hold his feelings back and slept with him.

And then left, because he doesn’t need to be told to leave twice, not _that_ at least. 

That’s all, right?

But words bubble up in his throat at the thought, and if he had anyone else to tell except for a sleeping Kageyama and the poor stewardesses who have nothing to do with his particular personal plight, he’d start talking.

Instead, he finds his phone, shoved under one of his legs, and opens up the mail app. 

Whatever, he’s not going to send it, right?

And so he writes, and writes, and writes. He rushes forward into sentences that have neither an end nor a beginning, others that make no syntactic sense. And then he goes back over them, makes some sense out of the mess he’s decided to spit up into a blank template.

The captain announces that they’re going down now, back to land, to Kuroo’s voice. Someone taps him on the shoulder, and Kei takes one last look at the page or so of text that he has typed up there before he looks up at Kageyama and has to wipe the tears from his face and his glasses.

The plane lands in Qatar, he doesn’t send the mail then.

But when they land in Rome, six hours later, after a little fine-tuning, he does.

.

.

So he’s here. 

The lobby of Tsukishima and Kageyama’s building has always been a little fancy. Tetsuro spends no less than twenty minutes sitting on one of the couches, staring up at the glass ceiling way up in the sky before he can bring himself to move. 

Maybe Tsukishima won't be there. He has no actual way of knowing, though, since the reception lady just let him through, probably because he was here every day that week Tsukishima got sick.

Would it be too weird to double back and ask her to ring the apartment up in case they’re not there?

But then Tsukishima might tell her to tell him to fuck off without even having to stand from the couch. Of course, he could tell her to keep his name out of it, make up some package, or like food delivery, she seems friendly enough.

With a sigh, Tetsuro stands, the small dessert in the package that he’s holding slides to the side, smearing the whipped cream a little. Great, now the cake is fucked up too. But maybe that would be a good metaphor, smeared but still crazy tasty -and expensive to boot-. Fuck. He’s running in circles, isn’t he?

Tetsuro takes a deep breath, it’s late afternoon -the dessert place took a while to get the damn thing ready, he was supposed to be here by three- and there are a couple of teenagers making out on the couch opposite to his, and they're getting more uncomfortably handsy the more time passes. 

He glances at them, grimaces, and heads for the elevator, rehearsing what he figures will be his make-it-or-break-it line, the one that will decide if Tsukishima lets him into the apartment or closes the door in his face -or maybe throws the dessert in his face if he _is_ as mad as he is when Tetsuro makes up worst-case scenarios in his head-. 

So far all he has is ‘Hi, I know I’m a jerk but-‘

That’s it, maybe it won't be too easy to talk to Tsukishima after all.

But, well, he’s here already and he can’t eat this thing without getting overwhelmed by how sugary it is so…

The elevator dings and opens the door into the very middle of the two-pronged corridors of the apartment tower. Tetsuro knows where he’s going by heart, he veers off to the left, second door down, the one with the Christmas ornament that one of the neighbors put there when Tsukishima and Kageyama refused to decorate and that they superglued there out of spite.

Tetsuro steels himself lifts a hand to brush over the hard, cold plastic of the headset around his neck, and rings the doorbell, feeling like the floor is about to open up under him and swallow him whole.

He waits for one, two, three, four, five breaths, but there’s no sign of movement inside the apartment. 

He rings the bell again.

And again.

By the fifth ring, he accepts Tsukishima isn’t here.

It’s fine, he can’t wait. Crestfallen, Tetsuro goes back down to the couch area, at least the couple isn’t there anymore. It’s a shame that the dessert keeps getting more and more banged up. 

After a couple of minutes, the girl from the reception approaches him, a concerned look on her face. “Did you not find the key?”

“Uh?” Tetsuro asks.

“The key.” She repeats slowly. “Kageyama-san said a friend would come by to pick up a couple of things from their apartment while they went on a trip- wait, you are here for the tenants of apartment eight hundred oh three, right?” she presses, face pinched.

Tetsuro might tease her for being lousy security if one part of the sentence didn’t catch his attention so acutely. “I- yes, I came to see Tsukishima Kei.” He says, frowning. “What do you mean they went on a trip?”

“Oh-“ she hesitates, clearly reluctant to give out information on a tenant so easily, especially after she already fucked up once. Who says Tetsuro is not some crazy stalker or something?.

Tetsuro sighs. “Look, we were dating and then we had a fight.” He starts, fingers tightening a little around the plastic container in his hand. “I came here to apologize-“ he lifts up the banged up dessert. “-I even brought this. I’m only asking so I don’t hang around here waiting for even longer.”

“Well, I did recognize you form last month,” she says, voice low. “Alright, but you can’t tell anyone I told you.” Tetsuro nods eagerly, even though his heat is way down by his feet. “Kageyama-san said they were leaving for someplace in Italy for a few weeks. Apparently, they’re looking for an apartment over there-“ she bites her lower lip, a hand coming u to brush a stray lock of hair off her forehead. “-because they’re switching jobs and moving before the new year.”

It’s like having a pail of cold water thrown at his face. 

But it’s impossible -well, not _impossible_ , but- he hasn’t heard anything about Tsukishima getting scouted and- Maybe she understood wrong, maybe- "Both of them?"

"I-I'm not sure, Kageyama-san didn't specify." She’s giving him a pitying look, Tetsuro knows -he knows how this whole thing looks-, even though his gaze is on the stupid dessert in his hands. He lifts his hands weakly, and she grabs the container on reflex. “Here-“ Tetsuro says, voice barely there. “Thank you, I’ll go now.”

He stands up slowly and feels his phone vibrates in his pocket. As numb legs carry him out of the building’s lobby Tetsuro checks the notification, though his sight is growing blurrier by the second.

Who’d say it? It’s an e-mail from Tsukishima.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo Tsukki's off eating his gelato. I wonder how Kuroo is gonna take this >-<  
> This was a strange chapter to write, but it didn't feel right to skip over so much of the thinking and healing and stuff (read: I cant be concise).  
> What do you all think Tsukki said in his e-mail?
> 
> Love <3, Kyrye


	10. In my defense (I have none)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wouldn't it be nice to be able to leave your troubles stashed up in a drawer somewhere to look at later.  
> Shame you can't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter kicked my ass >.<, but it was also pretty fun to write and it builds up to a lot of fun stuff.  
> Thanks everyone for always being so sweet!

It's a little peaceful.

Kei opted for paying a two-week international plan -Kageyama's atrocious sense of direction requires for them to be able to communicate, lest the setter ends up falling into a manhole or something- but he isn't expecting any messages. He already answered his mom that he's fine, and Akiteru that they landed alright.

And Kageyama took care of the Karasuno group-chat, seeing as Tadashi is a little mad that Kei only just told him he was going to Italy too yesterday.

It wasn't intentional, but Kei's in no mood to explain himself right now.

Their hotel room has twin, narrow beds, barely long enough to accommodate Kei's height. It has a simple set up with tan wallpaper and beige curtains. A small wooden desk is pushed up against the wall on the corner of the room, right beside the door that leads out to a narrow balcony with a white, metal grille being the only thing preventing anyone standing there from falling four stories through the air, and straight down into the hard stone ground.

Nothing's frilly, or over the top, and Kei finds that it's kind of soothing.

It's late afternoon already, the sky outside darkening rapidly, he tosses his phone on top of the hand towels that are carefully folded over the bathroom counter and goes to wash more than a whole day's worth of grime, sweat, and the sticky sheen of airplane grossness.

The shower's big, the pressure could be a little higher, but it gets the job done, and Kei stays under it until his skin is pink like a small pig's. Hair longer than he ever has worn it, hanging wet and heavy over hi ears, brushing the neck of his neck.

And he's not expecting any calls, or texts, or e-mails.

But he still checks his phone on the way out.

Weakness is not something he associates with himself for the most part, but when it comes to setting boundaries with Kuroo is seems to be a defining factor. Kei puts the phone down carefully, e-mails don't have read-receipts unless you activate them and he logged out of the account anyways. What's going on with him? Kei has never had issues sticking to personal determinations, except for this. He sets the phone back down, carefully, with the screen to the counter.

"Oi! How long are you going to keep hogging the bathroom?" Kageyama calls from the room, he must be pretty annoyed, after having to drag around his two suitcases, first to lunch and then to the gym where the Ali Roma team trains, to greet the coaches that got them the -very expensive- last minute tickets.

"I'm coming!" Kei calls, toeing his hair dry and wrapping a towel around his waist. He opens the door, glaring at Kageyama. "Do you have somewhere to go?"

Kageyama shrugs. "I smell like an airport." he glares back. "And you were int here for an hour, I was just as much checking that you weren't dead."

Kei shrugs, almost shouldering past the setter. "Well reeked of airport too." he shrugs, heading directly for his suitcase and pulling out some pants, eyeing the pack of cigarettes they purchased with some other snacks earlier, in a way that's almost greedy.

The bathroom door closes, and Kei realizes a lot of things are over now -his and Kageyama's hooking up routine, for one, although maybe, an ending to that was just long overdue-.

He also realizes he left his phone inside.

Small blessings.

On the balcony, the air is almost warm the chill to it barely there, and he lights the cigarette in two tries. Not practiced at all, and certainly no ease. He doesn't let himself feel guilty about it, this is Kei's first vacation, from all of it.

He inhales the smoke and leans on the railing, maybe it doesn't feel as good as he thought it would.

But maybe that's normal too.

.

.

**_FROM: TSUKISHIMA KEI (_ ** **_K_TSUKISHIMA@_ ** **_SMUSEUMAIL.GOV.JP)_ **

**_TO: ME (_ ** **_KUROOTE@JVA.COM.JP_ ** **_)_ **

_I would like to say I don’t know why I’m writing to you, much less using an archaic form of communication such as this when you’re a LINE message away. But I am sick of lying, and there are reasons for both of those._

_As for the first one, Kuroo, I’ve been lying and holding on to something that never really had to be a secret for seven years. And I think I did it because I didn’t want you to get spooked and shut me out, but you got spooked and chucked me out like yesterday’s leftovers anyways. And you didn’t even let me explain myself properly before the recriminations began._

_So I’m writing you, I’m pouring it out here and if you want to delete this, you can. At this point, I have almost convinced myself that I won’t care if you do._

_And I shouldn’t, you never cared what you said. I listened to you say you didn’t want a soulmate, and how much you hoped he didn’t want you because you didn’t want to be unfair, or have someone hanging off your sleeve thinking you were meant to be with them. I did that for seven years. I guess congratulations are in order, you got at least part what you wanted, and I guess now you get it all._

_Part of it is my fault, I don’t deny that I was a coward but I think even you, being you, can see how I decided not to tell you._

_At first, I just figured I’d never see you again. Maybe at Nationals, from afar, but no more than that. What was the point in stirring up all that drama when I didn’t even really care if I would see you again? I was on the fence to begin with, and my family couldn’t care less. You could live without a soulmate, I could live without some guy who made too many puns and wouldn’t know a hairbrush if it hit him in the face._

_But then you turned out to be decent company. I figured it was fine, my soulmate and you were separate people in my mind._

_I think I knew, even then that it wasn’t so clear cut. But you didn’t want me, and I didn’t want a person that didn’t want me. So, I resolved to ignore it, after all, I would never be so involved with you that you would need to know, right?_

_The curiosity of what you might do overwhelmed me, and I almost did tell you a few times, but that same thing held me back. That should have made things pretty obvious but I’m good at willfully ignoring inconvenient facts until they become so big it’s either I acknowledge them, or I’m crushed by them._

_They did, you left for Korea, I decided to take the pills, and forget any times I was stupid enough to kiss you knowing that it was pointless. My life was decent, I only saw double and puked the first three weeks, and I didn’t get insomnia, or liver failure, which is good, I guess._

_I think it could all have been alright if you’d gotten assigned to Kyoto or Hyogo. I know you didn’t ask for the assignment so maybe it was just bad luck._

_What wasn’t bad luck was you chasing me up and down Sendai. Showing up at my games, at my photoshoots, I’m not saying it was bad, per se. But what did you expect? I held back as much as I could, I tried to, and you know that, the same way you knew what you were doing._

_I’m not going to try to not sound bitter. Kuroo, I almost told you that first morning, I should have. But would it have been very different from what happened in Tokyo? I had run with the lie that far. I figured I could wait until I could control the setting. I felt like I was betraying both you and myself while I did, I was afraid of my worst case scenario. The real-life scenario._

_I still owed you an apology -and I am sorry, you can't know how much-, but at least, I deserved for you to let me finish it._

_I thought, whatever there was, that wasn’t that stupid bond would at least have been worth that much._

_It was worth that much to me._

_But I understand, I think, I understood, last week. You know when. That even if it did, it doesn’t matter now. What would have happened if I hadn’t kept you in the dark isn’t something I can say for sure, I don’t even want to think about it. And I’m aware that I have part of the blame, hell, most of it, but I never lied to you about anything else, so there’s that._

_And I don’t hate you for how you reacted. I would even say I forgive you for dismissing me but I’m not that big a person._

_I do understand, though, that you want nothing to do with me. And I’ll give you that. I’ll go on with my life and you can stop feeling guilty and trying to make it better even though it’s not going to. At least now you don’t have to go around wondering if your soulmate’s going to show up randomly. It’s me after all, and I accept your terms._

_That’s why I’m writing this to you in an e-mail. I quit the museum, this account is not going to be mine tomorrow and I’m logging out now anyways._

_This is a nice point for a cleaner break, don’t you think?_

.

.

What he’s doing isn’t professional.

And it might not be very healthy either. 

That’s what Tetsuro thinks on Monday morning as he walks into the offices of the Sendai branch of the JVA. The raging headache he woke up with after downing most of a bottle of wine last night still hasn’t succumbed to the very analgesics that set off this godawful chain of events, and he’s very aware that his tie is loose and his chin is stubbly.

No one makes any comments as he slowly trudges over to his office, hands curled with the knowledge that he’s admitted to making his worst mistake the day he told Tsukishima to leave at Akaashi’s apartment.

It’s for that reason that he really shouldn’t do this. Tsukishima has put his cards on the table, and Tetsuro has become the living, breathing embodiment of the phrase ‘careful what you wish for’.

_It’s me after all, and I accept your terms._

He can almost hear it in his head, as if for a lack of the blond’s voice -because he’s _still_ not listening to music and every time he stumbles upon the thought Tetsuro can’t help but feel another tip of guilt push into his belly- in his head, he has developed some sort of acute, prefect/photographic sound memory and can now imagine the whole goddamned e-mail being read to him from the blond’s lips.

Breaking voice and all.

There’s no guarantee he’d be able to fix it. In fact, it’s more likely that any intervention on his part might make things worse.

This is the moment when this would turn into one of those bittersweet endings, where they definitely lost each other but found some sort of closure and learning, and- it doesn’t feel like that at all. It feels lonely, and empty, and like the biggest waste in the world just because Tetsuro decided to be a huge ass about something no one could control.

Tetsuro wants to fight.

He can’t really expect Tsukishima to meet him halfway, not now. Tetsuro has given the blond crumbs all this time, it has always been Tsukishima making concessions, letting him do what he wanted. Keeping a stupid secret and hurting himself because the seven-year-old in a corner of Tetsuro’s mind couldn’t separate his parents from every other person in the world including himself.

Besides, there’s the issue of Kageyama. Tetsuro doesn’t know the other well enough to be sure, and though he’s at the level of friendship where it wouldn’t be _that_ strange for Kei to run off overseas with him after a bad breakup, Tetsuro can’t help but worry.

For all Tetsuro knows, Kei might be realizing true love was living in the room next to his and fucking him on Sunday night for the last four years.

And if he does-

A shy knock sounds form his door, 

one of the secretaries is standing there, ace pale. “I- um- We bought coffee from the bakery across the street-” She lifts a paper cup. “Do you want some Kuroo-san?

Tetsu grins at her or tries to. “Yes, please.” He says, the voice coming from his raw throat barely more than a rasp. 

She walks forward, placing the cup carefully on the wooden desk from as far as she can. “Cheer up Kuroo-san.” She says quickly before disappearing through the door again, wow, he really must look bad.

Now, to the unprofessional thing, he’s been planning since yesterday. Tetsuro picks up his phone, the weight suddenly a very noticeable thing in his hand. He closes his eyes, takes a sip of the coffee then opens his contacts, and scrolls down until he finds the number.

The line rings a couple of times. “Kuroo-san-“ The voice of Tsukishima’s coach is clear, serious. “-good morning.”

Good morning, Mishima-san” Tetsuro says, trying not to sound too eager. “I hope you’re doing well.”

“I am.” Mishima hesitates. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call,” he sounds as if it’s anything but a pleasure. “Are you making any changes to what we discussed last week?”

Tetsuro clears his throat, here he goes. “No, no, not at all. It’s just that I was wondering if one of your players would be available to do a couple of promos-“

“You mean Tsukishima-kun?” The older man cuts him off, voice almost harsh. “I get he’s a favorite of the association but he’s currently on vacation.”

It’s a little infuriating, only until Tetsuro remembers this man probably doesn’t know much about the situation. Tsukishima isn’t that open. “Oh, I know-“ he says, smoothing his tone until it can almost be called off-hand. “But this would be around December, do you think he might be available then? I just need to know if I can suggest him, no need for a definite answer now.”

Tetsuro almost surprises himself with how well that comes out when in reality his heart feels like it’s running a race. It makes sense, though, because this is the moment of truth. After all, if Tsukishima really has some offer to go international he could never try and make him stay, not for him, not after everything. “I don’t think he’s occupied.” Mishima, taken aback, answers carefully. “He hasn’t said anything to me, but you should really ask him when he comes back, it’s his time after all.” Breath catches in Tetsuro’s throat, with such short notice, Tsukishima’s coach _would_ know if he was transferring,

“Well, it’s barely in the works.” Tetsuro answers. “I’ll be sure to contact him. Thank you so much for your time.”

He barely hears the coach excusing himself, and he definitely has no idea what he says back. Only that when he puts down the phone there’s a little warmth pooling in his chest. Even if this is no guarantee, even if Tsukishima might just be moving to work as a museum curator or something. 

That’s a lot less likely though, he doesn’t speak Italian.

So he’s most likely not leaving. It’s relatively common knowledge that Kageyama has had a bunch of clubs after him for the past year, everyone has been waiting to see which one he decides to go for. Maybe Tsukishima just needed to cool down somewhere else, and this whole thing was the perfect excuse for him to flee to Europe. 

He has the chance to try, a shining sphere of delicate light between his hands that may yet dissolve into nothing no matter what he does.

But he has it.

And if he doesn’t take it, then he _certainly_ loses Tsukishima forever. 

So, damned hell, he’s going to try. 

He picks up his phone again.

.

.

**_FROM: ME -09:00_ **

_Um, hi._

_It’s been a while Sawamura._

**_FROM: SAWAMURA DAICHI -09:03_ **

_No._

.

.

Kei wakes up to a bit of a headache and a feeling that he should have had lunch already.

Which doesn’t make sense because the clock says it’s seven in the morning and, unless he has practice, he’s never awake this early. 

It’s not like he slept much either.

Kageyama is snoring on the other bed, arms around a pillow that he’s simultaneously drooling on. Kei grabs for his phone, snaps a picture, and then goes to send that picture to the Karasuno group chat. Then something catches his attention at the top of the screen.

God, he really hates these kinds of notifications. It’s from his music app, one of the ‘we’ve missed you’ types and for some reason it makes Kei see red. 

Scoffing through his teeth, he looks over at Kageyama, who hasn’t stirred, and opens the app.

He’s quick, perfunctory. He sent that e-mail, didn’t he -even though right now he kind of wants to change a couple of lines of it-? This isn’t too different, what does he need the playlists for now?

They go quickly, in alphabetic order, the very same ones he’s had since he was in high school -he’s consistent, and he’s always liked that consistency-. He only hesitates at the last one, bile rising up his throat, suddenly the leftover smell of tobacco on his fingers is overpowering, and he really - _really-_ wants to puke.

Before he runs for the bathroom, he deletes the playlist he made for Kuroo and closes the app.

.

.

**_FROM: ME -09:10_ **

_C’mon Sawamura._

_Please talk to me._

_I know I’m kind of in no place to ask but-_

_Just have coffee with me._

_And if you don’t wanna help me then it’s fine._

_If you could give me Yamaguchi’s number then._

_I’d be really thankful._

**_FROM: SAWAMURA DAICHI -09:54_ **

_I don’t see what I could help you with._

_But fine._

_But not today, I have a meeting._

_Actually._

_Friday?_

_I’m off after five._

_You owe Suga some thanks._

_I’m not giving you any numbers._

.

.

When the answer to which apartment listing Kageyama wanted to visit first was "I dunno, I figured we could figure all that out here," Kei decided they were going to spend the first couple of days doing touristy shit while he built a decent list of places they might want to check out -ones that do not seem like a scam, and aren't in neighborhoods that might get Kageyama's prissy ass mugged-.

How is Kageyama going to survive on his own, anyway?

So, with feet that feel sorer than he ever has felt them -and they barely saw like a third of the things Kei wanted to see today-, he's now curled up with a tub of raspberry gelato, in a chair that he has dragged almost to the balcony -almost because the actual balcony is too narrow for the chair- the curtains have been thrown to the side, the balcony door left wide open.

And Kageyama may or may not be getting them cheap wine from the tiny store a couple streets from the hotel -and Kei kinda hopes he doesn't get lost-. The sky is that pale blue-lavender of cold days, dotted with stray sherbet orange clouds. It's a warmer day thankfully -by which he means he's not exactly freezing in a t-shirt- and the air smells clean. All this to say that Kei feels a little clear, a little at peace, for the first time in almost a month.

It feels good.

The phone laid on he bed ring, Kei lifts it, his own name is on the screen, along with a very unflattering photo. He picks it up. "Oi, how long do I have to keep using your shitty phone?" is what Kageyama answers with.

Kei snorts. "Did you get lost looking for my contact list again?" He shoves a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. "And as long as you want me to keep calling the landlords of the apartment buildings you will hopefully inhabit by December-" he drawls. "-but then, your English is pretty shoddy, you might end up agreeing to live with nudists or something."

On the other end Kageyama groans. "Oh, whatever, look, I got the wine. No thanks to you-" he mutters something about old shopkeepers and Kei giggles. "But that guy Binky called this number and said there's some sort of party on Friday and that there are people there that want to meet you, he's being weirdly insistent."

Kei frowns. "I think it was Bianchi." He shrugs. "So?"

He can almost feel Kageyama's exasperated sigh. "So do I tell him you're going? He said I could come too, it's like a bunch of people from the teams nearby are going."

Kei rolls his eyes, tongue licking off some ice cream from his spoon. "Why didn't you tell him to call me?"

"Because then I would have had to explain why you're using my stupid phone!" Kageyama huffs. 

"Well, duh!" Kei says, laughing. "Say you mixed it up with mine, he knows we're staying together!"

"Oh," Kageyama is silent for a second. "So I'll tell him we're going-"

"What?" Kei almost leaps up from this seat. "Why-"

"Oh, never mind, I'm here-" Kageyama huffs, just as the door opens, and he comes in with a bag that has to have at least seven bottles of wine. He's gotten them one of everything, it seems red, white, pink, champagne. 

Kei just stares at the setter for a second. "Are we trying to die of alcohol poisoning? I'm eating what's almost pure sugar."

Kageyama only raises one of his thin brows at Kei. "So you're not going to want wine tomorrow?" he asks, pulling out the champagne as Kei sets the gelato tub between them. "So, we're going, right?"

"To that party?" Kei looks a little taken aback. "Why? Do _you_ want to go? We know no one here, and I'm not moving, Akiteru and my mom would either kill me or move with me." 

Kageyama pops the bottle of champagne open, a strange look in his eyes, and he hands it off to Kei without taking even a sip. "I figured you might want to."

"Yeah-" Kei takes a gulp of the champagne, it's delicious, chilled, and bubbly. "Me, the known extrovert." he looks at the bottle in his hands. "Wait, you gave me the first sip," he narrows his eyes at Kageyama's sheepish expression, at his long sleeve t-shirt and volleyball shorts. " _You_ want to go? Why _do_ you want to go?" It may seem banal, but one of the first things they bickered about after he and Kageyama got to a point where they were comfortable sharing bottles was the first sip of a bottle of alcohol. It's a topic that has never really grown old and Kei just knows Kageyama is trying to get him in a good mood.

It's a nice afternoon, almost evening, Kei studies Kageyama's face, yeah, there's definitely something else the setter isn't saying. He holds Kageyama's gaze, then throws his head back, exasperated, and takes a long drink of champagne. "I may-" Kageyama blurts out. "- I slept with Hoshiumi."

The fact that he doesn't choke is a miracle, but he does need to cough a couple of times. "What-" Kei takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "I didn't know that, but what does it have to do with the party?"

And that's when Kageyama leans forward from where he's sitting on the bed and snatches the bottle right out of Kei's hand. "So he may be trying out for a team in Milan-" Kageyama says quickly, nervously, very unlike him. And that's when Kei realizes why him sleeping with Hoshiumi even _matters_ -because Kageyama did sleep with Ushijima that one time, and _that_ wasn't a big deal-. Kageyama likes him.

And he's in Europe too.

Seriously?

Kei can't help the fit of giggles that overcomes him then. He doubles over and laughs until his stomach hurts. "And here I thought we came here because I was on the verge of a mental breakdown," he holds his belly, it is starting to hurt. "You're stalking your crush King, oh god."

Kageyama patiently waits until Kei is mostly just wheezing before he steals the spoon from the ice cream container and shovels an overly large chunk of it into his mouth. "I didn't mean to be here- You were the one that magically got time off! I thought we would have been here in like a month, hell, I even told the Ali guy that we probably wouldn't take the tickets at first!" He bellows, right before his face twists, and he shivers. "I didn't- ugh-"

"Serves you right to get brain freeze." Kei hisses, getting the champagne back and leaning back on his chair. "Were you just going to get me to wander around Italy looking for him if this party didn't materialize out of thin air then?" He asks, the mockery in his voice much too evident. "Great plan your Majesty."

"There was no plan!" Kageyama snaps, red faced. 

Kei looks at him for a second, then cradles the bottle of champagne close to his chest, throwing his head back, eyes closed. A sudden gust of wind travels over his face like a sheet of silk. "Call the guy," Kei grunts. "It's not like we weren't getting drunk _that_ particular night."

A moment of quiet, grateful silence fills the room. But statements of gratitude aren't something that's common between them. "Should I answer your mom's texts too?" Kageyama says, smug, a smile that Kei can't see coating his voice.

Smirking, Kei takes another drink of champagne. "Please." And then he keeps his eyes closed, trying to remember the detail of the high ceilings of St. Peter's Basilica as he saw them this very morning.

.

.

Ok, so Tetsuro did not exactly come here to have a good time, that's a given and frankly, not even the worst masochist in the world would want to be in the situation he thought he was going to be in.

But he _is_ feeling pretty attacked right now.

Ambushed, is more like it.

Because the situation he's actually in is so much worse.

He groans as he sits down on the table, eyes meeting Sawamura's stern ones that kind of make him want to apologize, even though he hasn't actually done anything that would warrant an apology to him specifically. 

Then he turns his gaze on Yamaguchi, watching him with big, green, angry eyes. "Ok, I get you-" Tetsuro says to the green-haired-man, then jerks his thumb towards the other man sitting around the diner table. "-but what is he here for."

The bald man with the sharp teeth that Tetsuro only barely remembers as being called Tanaka shoots forward, hands slamming on the table. "We're brothers in law." he bellows.

"Neither of you is married to the other's brother." Tetsuro can't help but point it out, even though he's really not in a position to upset any of the others.

The man glowers. "Oh, who cares? Do you want me to call his actual brother?"

"To be fair, Akiteru-san isn't all that scary." Yamaguchi interrupts, a hand going to Tanaka's shoulder. "But you could call Saeko-neechan, she gives anyone else a run for their money."

Tetsuro lifts his hands, placating. "Hey, hey, I was just asking I haven't seen you in like five years dude. It's fine. I guess the more of you the better." He leans forward on his elbows. "I know you're all probably second-hand pissed at me right now, and I get it, really I was an idiot, but I just need-" Tetsuro trails off, somehow he doesn't know what comes after. Does he need advice? Information? Help planning something completely cheesy -right out of an over the top foreign movie- as some sort of grand gesture telling Tsukishima that if he takes Tetsuro back, then he'll be all in for him no matter what he does? Does he need comfort?

Texting Sawamura felt like a no brainer this morning but now- Now it feels like he's asking someone else to fix his problems, someone that wouldn't even really know how to.

He's not this weak-willed. 

"Well, we are all pissed." it's Yamaguchi that answers. "But we're also here hearing you out, it's a start, isn't it?"

"What the hell, no!" Tanaka calls. "I came to lay it on him! Tsukki ran away to another continent!!"

Tetsuro alternates looking at their faces, stunned. "I-"

Sawamura clears his throat. "It might help if we knew what happened, maybe?" he sighs. "All we know is that apparently, you broke Tsukishima's heart, and somehow you're his soulmate and took seven years to realize. That leaves a lot of blank spots."

Alright, that Tetsuro can do. He opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by a waitress bringing the other three men's orders. At least it gives him a moment to collect himself and he gets to at least order some coffee and a sandwich. He's barely eaten all day and his stomach has been complaining since three hours ago. 

And then, after the waitress leaves and what seems to be the version earth has for him of a panel of celestial judges is staring at him intently, he starts talking. It's a bit choppy at first, he stumbles over their first few encounters, this being the very first time he really analyses them and makes sense of the little details, Tsukishima's reluctance each and every one of the times Tetsuro could have asked, should have asked, and didn't. And each and every one of the times he said things that sounded completely harmless, about soulmates, to his soulmate's face. Around the time he went to Korea, it gets easier, there isn't much he can give in the way of details other than a few silly things. "-he sometimes let me know when he updated the playlists, especially that one," he's saying as he pulls out his phone. "Fuck, I was an idiot, here I'll show you."

He fiddles with his phone, going to the music app, then to Tsukishima's profile, but the app is glitching.

_This user has not created any playlists._

He refreshes the page.

_This user has not created any playlists._

The surge of dread that washes over him must be plain on his face because even Tanaka is looking at him with pity in his eyes.

"I-" Tetsuro stammers. "I- guess that's not there anymore." His throat hurts, his eyes burn. But he's not going to break down here, Tetsuro takes a deep breath, the silence in his head is deafening, oppressive. 

He takes a minute to breathe through it, it looks like Yamaguchi almost wants to say something but Sawamura stops him. By the time Tetsuro is ready to start talking again his food is already there. That helps, at least. He starts after he came back because the playlists are something he can't allow himself to think of just yet. So he tells them of ho the attraction, the pull, was there, always, and he could see Tsukishima felt the same. And he wore it out -because of course, after so long it would wear thin, the blond must have been exhausted- how the to weeks of actually being with Tsukishima were perfect.

At least the three seem rivetted, Tetsuro pauses to take a bite of his sandwich before things get bad and Tanaka leans forward, almost toppling his iced tea. "And then what."

"My liver failed. I had to stop taking the pills and the universe conspired so I ended up finding out that Kei was my soulmate by accident." he looks down. "It didn't end well, I called him untrustworthy, said we were done without giving him a chance to explain." He looks to the side, not able to give details when it comes to those last few events. Besides, there's still one more thing, and Tetsuro can only hang his head in shame. "And then I slept with him two weeks later."

There's a moment of stunned silence, Tetsuro wonders if they'd just stand up and go. They don't seem like the type. 

Yamaguchi closes his eyes, a long-suffering gesture. "You're both so dramatic, I guess it's only fitting." hard eyes meet Tetsuro's. "Not that I'm saying you're not an ass. You are-"

"The biggest ass!" Tanaka interrupts and Tetsuro has to bite his tongue to stop himself from quipping back.

The green-haired-man rolls his eyes at him. "-and you can't really expect much sympathy. But you both managed to keep this up for seven years. It's astonishing."

"Well, I could use a little bit? Like a sprinkle, at least?" Tetsuro says in a small voice.

Sawamura, who has been mostly quiet until now, shrugs. "I still have no idea why you wanted to meet. I get you two were in a complicated situation. But it's not like I, or any of us can help with that."

Tetsuro runs a hand through the mess of his hair. "I know, I mean-" he sighs. "At first I just wanted to know if Tsukki was moving, but I'm pretty sure that's not the case.

"So?" Sawamura presses. 

"I dunno!" Tetsuro snaps. "I want to- I'm going to fight for him-" he lifts his eyes, exasperated. "- at least as far as he lets me, I just-" he sighs. "I think I just wanted someone to tell me I don't sound like a stalky nutjob saying that." He looks away. "I mean I know you guys might just prefer it with Kageyama, but-"

At that, all three of them burst out laughing. Tetsuro just watches them, soul completely crushed, feeling like he has stepped into an alternate dimension. Sawamura and Tanaka stop first, after a while it's only Yamaguchi laughing, when he stops, he looks up through eyes with wrinkled corners. "I've been hearing Tsukki pine over you since we were fifteen," he says, and suddenly his gaze turns a little angry. "You don't get to shield yourself on something that was born because you didn't want him." he sips at his drink, and Tetsuro feels like a fly pinned to a corkboard. "And he never did stop pining, so..."

"So I'm an idiot who is wasting time, and maybe I should be halfway to Italy already?" Tetsuro tries. "Or at least preparing a damn good speech?"

At least they're all decent enough not to chant 'yup' in unison the way Akaashi and Bokuto would. 

"Then what are you planning to do?" Sawamura asks. And then, Tetsuro does have a few ideas, if he's doing this, he's not going to spare any effort. 

But when he thinks about the missing playlists, he realizes, even his best might not be enough.

It all comes down to Tsukishima.

.

.

Luckily the 'party' isn't formal, at all -although Kei does still have to wrestle Kageyama into something other than volleyball shorts- so they're able to get away with nice jeans and open-collared shirts. 

God getting a suit rental here would be a hassle, Kei has started to pick up on some basic stuff in Italian, but it's not nearly enough to put up with that, especially since he often has to have his pant's legs lengthened.

Hell, the blase clothing choice even fits a little with the place this thing is being held at. Some sort of large house -one could call it a mansion, even- with a large, wide terrace on the back. It is all sorts of romantic-movie worthy, with everything done in white marble and columns, and details. Kei's historian side is in heaven just looking at the way that some of the columns have been worked.

At the edge of the terrace, there's an elegant stone railing, overlooking the gentle slope of a hill, some green still in the grass that covers it.

The first hour or so is awkward, there's a speech that neither of them understand, and all Kei actually knows is that there's a spiky white head a couple meters ahead of them and Kageyama's eyes haven't left it since they arrived. 

There's a toast, and a sigh, Kageyama drinks his champagne quickly, then looks at Kei in a way that's now somehow helpless and the question that has been Jumping off the tip of his tongue ever since Kageyama told him about the fling -one-night-stand with a dash of court flirting-makes it's way out. "He-" Kei swallows, he was too cowardly to ask before but it kind of seems like an important thing to know, especially if one takes int account the recent events in his own life. "-did you ever ask him if he- Does he have a soulmate?"

He asks in an almost fearful way, which is also why t's so jarring when Kageyama chuckles. "You certainly weren't in the Adlers," he says with a small smile, and then more seriously. "They dated in high school, it just didn't work out."

Kei startles, Kageyama has never been a person that gives out many details, but it's clear, even from the bare-boned explanation that it was somehow the setter's same situation bu reversed. "They're even friends, as far as I know, the guy's married with kids."

Puzzle pieces, huh?

"Figures." He says and then narrows his eyes at Kageyama, who has grabbed his third glass of champagne off a passing waiter's tray and is sill staring longingly at the corner where Hoshiumi is animatedly chatting up some blond guy dressed in an outrageous purple bodysuit. "Well, go talk to him-" Kei hisses, elbow digging into Kageyama's side. "Well, go talk to him."

"He's buy-" Kageyama hisses back. "What are you now, my matchmaker?"

"You-" Kei looks up at him in disbelief. "We're in fucking Italy Tobio-" Kei hisses, and maybe its the first time he's called the other that when they're not having sex or something of the sort, at most it's the third. "Step up and talk to him or I'm leaving."

Kageyama lifts his eyebrows at him, a challenging gesture. "Are you asking me to leave you alone at a party?"

"Yeah-" Kei huffs, rolling his eyes at him. "You're ruining my chances to get laid with your constipated face, now go or I'm throwing you down the hill, I mean it."

The setter shoots Kei one last, nervous glance before he goes off in the direction of that white head. Kei really, really hopes Hoshiumi is not really flirting with the guy in the purple suit or something, after Kageyama’s past experiences -experience, really- with prospective romantic partners, he spooks easily.

One could say Kei's selfless enough to let Kageyama go, even if the cynical side of him keeps yelling that things might just end up the same or worse beyond what happens tonight. But the truth is he's drunk three glasses of champagne already and he's feeling a little like if someone says the right thing -or the wrong thing- he might tear up. There's also the fact, that some little part of him selfishly wants for at least someone to get a happy ending out of this, cheesy as it sounds, but it's clearly not going to be him. 

Maybe Kuroo will have his happy ending at some point though.

Maybe someone will be all Kei was and all he wasn't and things will finally fit for him.

Huh, maybe he should move to Italy.

That's actually not something he wants to be thinking about, so he tracks down the nearest waiter and his legs carry him to the inviting alcohol in their tray, fuck canapes, that's what he really needs right now. He catches up, reaches his hand out, and- "Oh, sorry-" his knuckles bump into someone else's and Kei lifts his gaze to meet an olive green one.

The world is small, the world of volleyball is smaller, that still _doesn't_ explain this. 

"Tsukishima, right?" Ushijima says, grabbing his own flute. "You're Kageyama's 

roommate."

Kei grimaces, of all people... "Yeah," He peers down at Ushijima, straightening up so he's taking full advantage of his height he probably barely has an inch or so on the man, but he's damn well gonna use it. "I didn't think you'd be here, Ushijima-san, don't you play for a Polish team?"

Ushijima's nose wrinkles. "It is not that far," he says, sipping at the flute and humming. "We were at a practice game anyways, are you being courted to play the European league?"

Kei laughs, as if. “No, I just ended up here because Kageyama needed someone to babysit him while he tried to find a place to stay..”

Ushijima’s face is seriousness in the flesh. “I see-“his eyes are somehow both so sever and so honest that Kei feels a little taken aback. “That’s a shame, you are good. Had your team made it to Division 1 earlier, it would have been interesting to face you.”

And Kei doesn’t really know what to do with the compliment, because it is, he’s never considered himself to be at the same level as the ‘so-called’ monsters, though the few chances he’s had to get one over them, he’s taken, and enjoyed immensely. “Well, I've never been quite at that level.” He says, one of his hands coming up to rub the back of his neck, a leftover nervous habit from high school.

Ushijima's eyes glint, his black, unbuttoned shirt fluttering a little with the breeze. “I do not share that opinion”

Thankfully -or not- that’s exactly when an older man approaches them, in a suit that looks just right for the occasion, but also like it’s just expensive enough to buy a decent condo in the heart of Rome and then some. “Tsukishima.” He calls, voice heavily accented. He has dark hair gelled up and back in an artfully messy way, and his skin has the golden tan f a person that spends plenty of time in the sun without burning like a lobster. “I’m Giulio Bianchi. I believe we met when you and Kageyama dropped by the central gym?” His English is good, although the accent _is_ pretty evident.

Kei does remember him faintly, though both him and Kageyama were so rushed, hungry, and jet-lagged then that the only thing he recalls is the fact that the guy commented on their game against the rockets and how it must’ve felt to manage to block a cannon like Kiryu.

To which Kei gave a half-hearted response. He tries to smile. “Yes, I do remember,” he says. “You were the one that invited us to this party, weren’t you?” At least Kei’s English is decent.

“Yes, yes.” The man claps his hands together, his cheeks are shaded in slight five-o-clock-shadows, and his grin is surprisingly familiar. “I really wanted to talk to you specifically. Won’t you give me a moment of your time?”

When Kei’s eyes meet Ushijima’s again, there’s plain amusement in them. “I will excuse myself then.” He says, sipping at his flute. “It was nice to talk to you Tsukishima.”

And the Tsukishima turns back to the older man, who is staring at him in an unnervingly familiar way, like a cat who got the cream.

.

.

**_FROM: ME -11:32_ **

_I'm going back to the hotel._

_You have fun._

_I'll be fine_

.

.

When Kageyama walks into their hotel room, dawn is breaking. Kei is draped over the balcony in a way he hopes comes off as something other than awfully exhausted, the butt of a cigarette, long since gone cold dangling between his fingers.

There are a pair of birds being annoying on a tree nearby, and someone is singing on the floor above them, voice soft and feminine. A couple of cars have driven through the street below. Apart from it, everything has been silent since he got back, not long after midnight.

Deafening, crushing silence.

The worst is that he's getting used to it, or at the very least, has trained himself to not reach for his headset anymore

He doesn't turn back to look, he knows it's Kageyama from the way he carefully shuts the door behind him as if trying not to wake up someone who might be sleeping inside.

"You left with that Binky guy," Kageyama says, and it's not a question, but a statement. Not like it could be anything else when everyone saw them.

Kei turns his tired eyes to the pale gold sky, skin breaking out in goosebumps at the cold he's only just now noticed. "I didn't sleep with him." He grips the railing with his free hand. "If that's what you want to know."

Kageyama comes up beside him, hands finding the railing as well. "I didn't say that." His face is pinched, yet a faint glow of relaxation is evident on his face. "But you did, so..."

Kei turns his meanest, most bitter glare on the setter. "I really didn't sleep with him?" he looks back out at the shadowplay over the classic architecture outside. "Who do you think I am?" He looks Kageyama up and down then, noting the rumpled shirt, pulled free from the waist of his pants. "You should've stayed a little longer, not everyone just knows what you're feeling Your Majesty."

"Very funny." Kageyama takes a deep breath. "He had early train tickets," the man explains. "I also wanted to know you weren't dead, and since you turned off my phone..."

"It ran out of battery." Kei snorts. "Were you really calling me during your hot date? Hoshiumi does not come off as being that patient." He leans more of his weight on the railing peering down at the street, it squeaks but holds. Kei isn't that heavy, is he? maybe if he were Bokuto... he sighs. "He offered me a job-" his voice is quiet, small. "He also did come on too me, I said no to both."

A gust of wind tickles the nape of Kei's neck the soft curls that his hair starts forming when it's grown long enough fluttering a little. He hasn't slept in twenty-four hours, and perhaps that's the cause of the cold, aseptic clarity that overcomes him. Here he is, in a beautiful city he's wanted to visit for a long time, with just about no restrictions on what he could do. Here he is with an offer for a job he never dreamed of, one he's not sure he even wants. Here he is being propositioned to by someone that does quite appeal to him, someone he turned down before he even asked because he looked a little too much like someone else.

"He's not, I called you before we left." Kageyama hesitates for a second. "I knew you were ok, just not-"

"I'm fine."

"Right." Kageyama sighs, saying slightly, Kei doesn't know how drunk the other got, only that it's lingering until now. "It might have been good."

"What me hooking up with some rando?"

Kageyama shrugs. "Not like you haven't done it before." He leans back on his heels. "I figured Kuroo would make a good roommate."

All Kei can do is stare at him in disbelief, Kageyama's blue eyes are calm. "Sure, that's what we were. "He answers, a sardonic smile creeping over his face. "He is freakishly clean. And he can cook. You weren't that far off base- I think the exes angle might be a little awkward though." he deadpans.

"You know what I mean, quit it with the attitude." Kageyama barks out a laugh. "We lived together for a long time is all."

"I can live without your dirty socks, King, you're not that special." He looks down. "And I don't need you worrying about who I fuck."

"Mmm." Kageyama looks down at the street before lifting his eyes and yawning. "Oh, I know that," he says, with that look that just spells out that he's mocking Kei. "So you're not taking the job."

Kei leans back, looks up at the sky. "No, I'm not." He turns around and heads for his bed, toes curling on the soft carpet. "Go to sleep, we have two places to visit this afternoon, and I want to go to Tivoli tomorrow."

What's unsaid is left unsaid for a reason. Neither of their egos can stand it. But Kei gets the gist of it, he'd even tease Kageyama if he didn't feel all his strength leaving him the moment his body sinks into the hotel's soft mattress.

And then, of course, Kuroo stars listening to music, because that's Kei's life now, radio-silence and faint, unintelligible voices.

.

.

Tetsuro has kind of made do with the so-so earbuds his various phones have come with all his life. And he's, by far, not tech-inclined like Kenma, so he's really never had to queue up for the latest update to whatever fancy device just got launched by some tech giant.

Until now.

It is a very long line though, his legs kind of hurt.

But it's going to be worth it, at least if things go well.

He shifts his weight to his left foot, looking over the case of games that was his go-to for birthday gifts for Kenma until the man went and built his own videogame company.

It's still three days until Tsukishima gets back to Japan, four before the day Tetsuro has chosen to seek Tsukishima out and basically gut himself in front of the blond. But for some reason, Tetsuro feels the thrumming of nervous energy under his skin. Maybe it's the fact that he has a plan now, it's not much, and every part of it hinges on Tsukishima's willingness. To listen to him, to forgive him, to take him back.

And if at any point Tsukishima declines, really declines, well...

There's a letter in Tetsuro's computer requesting a change of work post, to quite literally anywhere, preferably Tokyo though, he misses his friends.

He's not running away, it's just that sometimes, accepting that things are over is necessary, no matter how much he wants, how much he would give for a re-do. And having good memories here is worse than having bad ones, at least if things had been a miserable trainwreck, he could be bitter. But the single moment, the one that was hideous and painful and made him feel betrayed didn't even happen here. All this city has is Tsukishima's smile after a game and the way his skin looks bathed in the dim light of Tetsuro's tiny one-bedroom.

If he can't get those things back, he can't stay where they are either. And he's going to try like hell.

Yeah, he's going to try like hell.

Tsukishima, for all he's hard and standoffish on the outside, is also caring, and sweet, and he's understanding. Tetsuro has to believe there's at least a tiny chance he'll get somewhere with this, otherwise he wouldn't be able to do it.

He loves Tsukishima enough to let him go if that's what the blond wants.

Tetsuro clutches the box he's come to the store for to his chest. Somehow every time he thinks that his stomach decides to turn inside out. Even though he knows it's true.

And if impossibly, if the stars align and Tsukishima still does love him, Tetsuro is going to spend as long as it takes and then some time making it all up to him.

The queue takes almost an hour, but he gets what he went to the store for in the first place.

The next few days pass far too quickly, by midnight the day before he's supposed to go to Tsukishima's Tetsuro has filled half a notebook with apologies and ideas and ways he might try, and Bokuto, the only one that has the heart and the patience to hear him cycle through most romantic comedies, and online blogs, and his own extensive knowledge of Tsukishima, has heard all of it. "Bro, it's fine the way it is." The owl is whispering, it's late at night and he's once again at Akaashi's for the weekend before he has to go back to Osaka tomorrow. "You literally told me yesterday just why something big and silly like flash mob would just scare Tsukki off, and you were right."

Tetsuro throws his head back over the chair at his home desk. "But what if he thinks that's all I've got. I don't want him to feel like I care that little, and I- And I-" he groans, bemoaning the moment he couldn't control himself enough to sit down on Akaashi's couch and breathe for a minute. "Bo, he's everything and I might just fuck it up."

A short pause later, Bokuto speaks. "But he knows you."

"Of course he knows me." Tetsuro sighs. "He knew Id' be an idiot and drive him away too."

"No, I mean he knows you're not just gonna drop off a box and like a half-assed apology, I"

Someone curses in the background. and then a new voice joins the call. "Kuroo, your plan is good, if it works, it works, if not, Kou will take you bar hopping in Osaka." Akaashi growls, sounding like his hair is standing on end and he can barely open his eyes under the heaviness of sleep. "You've been disturbing my sleep all weekend. Now, tomorrow is a Monday and I have to be early at work. Please go to sleep. I'm sure it'll be much worse if you fall asleep n the middle of whatever it is you're going to say to Tsukishima."

Tetsuro can't help but laugh at that, even when Bokuto comes back on, apologetic. "I kinda have to go Bro."

He shakes his head. "Don't mind Bo, I think that was what I needed." He laughs. "Thank Akaashi for the kick in the butt."

"Tomorrow," Bokuto says, resolute and a little scared.

"Tomorrow," Tetsuro agrees and turns around to look at his empty room.

A stone drops in his stomach, maybe there's still a little fine-tuning he can do to the playlist.

.

.

Kei is meal prepping for the week.

After all, he has another dumb photoshoot tomorrow, it’s supposed to run into the afternoon, so he ha to spend his one last free day after a trip that may have left the backs of his ankles peeled bloody and his calves eternally aching, making rice and running to the store for seaweed.

Just perfect, really.

Kageyama is out somewhere. He figures actually talking to Hoshiumi, after all, he did end up admitting that all they did in Italy was fuck somewhere they definitely shouldn’t have.

And, Kei figures, of all people, Kageyama understands he kind of has to say things with those loud, brash types. Otherwise, things tend to get muddy, or you know, downright disastrous. This doesn't mean the setter is particularly good at it, but at least Hoshiumi is one of those people that understands sound effects as whole sentences, he’ll probably be fine.

Hopefully.

Because in less than two months Hoshiumi is the only person he’s going to know within a five hundred mile radius, and for all Kageyama has always been devoted and responsible, he also has never lived away from Sendai.

Kei pairs up his socks, for god's sake.

The thing with Hoshiumi better take off.

At least the prep helps him focus, he'll probably have to see Kuroo tomorrow, he always does show to those stupid things. 

So Kei needs a clear head, not that it’s easy to get with the older man blaring music in his ears almost permanently. At least when he was in Italy it got down to a murmur sometimes, a murmur and then some squeaks here and there. Now that they are in the same city it’s this unending stream of pretty much everything.

-a part of him, quiet and soft in the back of his head, claims that Kei missed the music-

Although The past couple of days the older man has been leaning almost exclusively into sappy stuff. Making Kei’s chest bloom with burning irritation, and perhaps a little jealousy. 

Here he is, getting a lump in his throat while cutting vegetables and Kuroo is probably already mooning on for some random-

-the soft, quiet voice is squashed with a vengeance-

Even now, late in the afternoon, it doesn’t stop.

_I need to say, hey_

_It's all me, just don't go_

_Meet me in the afterglow_

_Fucking_ Taylor Swift, _fucking_ Kuroo, fucking _stupid_ Kei for not moving to Italy where it doesn’t sound like he has a built-in surround sound system always reminding him of his greatest failure. 

Fucking- “Ow!” He stares at the nick on the side of the index finger of his left hand for about a minute, watching the blood pour out and over to drip on the counter, barely missing the carrot bits, almost hard t see due to the dark color of the surface.

And then there’s something else, wet, warm, transparent, falling on the counter beside the blood. 

Fucking _stupid_ love he _still_ harbors.

After he learns how to breathe again, Kei rushes for the bathroom, to find some gauze and tape, the gash isn't deep enough and he can move his finger just fine. Oh, this is _just_ what he needed, first-day back and he’s going to show up with a mutilated hand.

Well, not mutilated, but it might as well be, god, this sucks.

After, he returns to the kitchen, finger taped up. As much as he wishes he could just forget about the food, he’s supposed to be n adult now and he can feel his mom in the back of his head nagging him about wasting perfectly good food. 

That’s when he notices his phone is ringing.

_His_ phone, that Kageyama threw back at him with a yell and a “I’m sick of pretending I’m you for auntie, and she’s catching on.” As soon as they set foot on Japanese soil.

Kei lifts it before he goes to finish up with the food, not quite curious, but after how nice Mishima has been, he might as well be on his best for at least a few days. He has several messages and missed calls, but his lock screen settings won't let him see from who.

He taps in his passcode and his heart stops.

Metaphorically, of course, but it damn well feels like that.

**_KUROO TETSURO (9) NEW MESSAGES._ **

**_KUROO TETSURO (3) MISSED CALLS._ **

Good lord, did something happen? Something bad? But Kuroo is still listening to that stupid Taylor Swift song… he can’t be listening to it in an ER, right? Or like kidnapped? What kidnapper plays Taylor swift, for fucks sake?

He has to take a deep breath before he opens the messages. 

**_KUROO TETSURO- 18:56_ **

_Uh, I guess you’re busy, you’re not picking up._

_Hi_

_Tsukki._

_I’m downstairs, in the couches with the plants._

_I just want to talk._

_You’re totally free to say no. If you do I’ll go._

_But if you’re just outside or busy doing laundry or something_

_I’ll wait as long as I have to. This is important._

_Please._

Kei hesitates. He’s already opened the messages, so Kuroo knows he’s seen him -see, this is why he sent n e-mail- just not answering feels -and looks- cruel. 

Maybe he could hide behind self-righteousness. What else could Kuroo be coming to say now? What could he want? 

His heart is beating in his throat, and in his ears, and basically everywhere. And it _hurts_.

It has been hurting for a month, it’s not going to stop hurting.

He bites his lip so hard he tastes blood, and it’s that reminder, that tang of copper in his tongue that propels him forward. He wipes furiously at his eyes and his lip and heads for the door.

He’s not sure what Kuroo wants or gets from this, he’s not sure what this is. Hell Kei’s not sure what he himself could stand to gain aside from more pain in every situation that he can think up.

But he can’t _not_ go to Kuroo, that he does know. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wanted to take things a little slow with this one so it felt a little less sudden when that last scene happened, also, Kuroo needed to realize that it was in his hands, it always was.  
> I would love to know what you all thought (esp about the e-mail)
> 
> Love >.<, Kyrye


	11. Don't call me kid (don't call me baby)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes effort in't enough, and things don't just magically get better. but at least they can try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really took a long time editing this. otherwise it was ready on Friday but it just wasn't coming out the way I wanted.  
> Today it went a little better and here we are. I really love most of the scenes in this chapter.  
> Thanks to everyone for your support!

Tsukishima reads the messages.

And Tsukishima doesn’t reply.

But Tetsuro came here with seven years’ worth of patience that he never really had to use, and a full phone battery, he’s not giving up so easily. Instead of letting the disheartening cloud that has been hanging over his head for the last few days, take over him, he adjusts Tsukishima’s headset over his ears and plays the sappiest stuff in his library -haphazardly built since Friday-.

He needs something to help him believe it isn't futile, after all.

And he’s prepared to wait here until the security guards kick him out.

He’s so set into that mindset, has sunk his teeth so deep in that determination that when the elevator doors open across the lobby, he almost chokes on his own spit.

_Like daylight_

_It's golden_

_Like daylight_

Taylor Swift croons helpfully into Tetsuro’s ear. All he can think is that yeah, it is, _he_ is. Golden hair longer than he ever has seen it, now forming what might be veritable curls around his ears and the nape of his neck. Eyes the color of light shining through honey narrowed in distrust behind the dark frames of his glasses. In a ratty white sweater and rattier Karasuno sweatpants, Tsukishima Kei is the most beautiful thing Tetsuro has ever seen, or at least, the only one he has ever wanted this much. God, he’s in love.

The headset gets torn down to his shoulders, Tetsuro stretches, feeling every muscle in his body tighten. He clutches on to the bag in his lap for dear life, thankful that apparently, the box inside if it is rather hard to bend.

Tsukishima’s steps are almost measured, face blank but for the narrowing of his eyes as he reaches Tetsuro. He’s guarded, hands shoved in the pocket of the sweatpants, looking just the way Tetsuro remembers from that very first time they met after he came back from Korea. This isn’t going to be easy. 

For the first time in so long, their gazes meet, Tsukishima’s lips curl into a cold smirk, a wall of lead falling between them. “Taylor Swift, really?”

And Tetsuro realizes, he was listening to that so loud that now that the headset is around his neck, it must be recognizable, at least to Tsukishima who is standing in front of him, barely a foot away. He feels his cheeks heat up just as his mouth fills with words. 

_Not yet_ , he thinks.

“Hah, you recognized that so quick.” He says, voice wavering just slightly. “Hi, Tsukki.”

The blond blinks at him, straightening up even further never mind that with Tetsuro sitting like this he’s a giant. “Hi.” He says, lips pressed into a tight, white line, and Tetsuro can’t help but notice a little splotch of red interrupting that precious continuity. “Mind telling me why you needed to see me so urgently?” he huffs, looking away. “I was in the middle of meal prep, so…”

This is the hardest part, Tetsuro realizes, actually staring. “I-“ he stands up. “I wanted to talk to you-“ he looks around them. There are people coming and going through the lobby, at least they don’t have company on the couches, no half-dressed teenagers making out like the world is ending. “-I thought we could do it somewhere more private?” He looks up at Tsukishima -even standing, he has to, just a little- with pleading eyes.

It’s hard not to reach out, Tetsuro realizes, having been so used to showering the blond with begrudgingly accepted casual touches. But he’s not sure he’s allowed to, now.

The blond tenses up, no he definitely wouldn’t be. “Why?” He takes a step back. “Look, if you want a repeat from last- You can just tell me whatever it is here.” He says, sidestepping Tetsuro and dropping on the other end of the couch, his long, arms crossed over his chest, the white leather squeaks in protest. “I’m not completely sure I turned off the stove, so you see, I don’t have that kind of time.”

Well, it’s not like Tetsuro minds, he’d very much declare his love on National TV if that got Tsukishima to forgive him. ”Alright.” he nods, sitting back down, the package still clutched tightly in his hands. “I just hope no one interrupts us.”

Tsukishima seems indifferent to the idea, no, scratch that, he looks like he’d welcome the inappropriate teenagers if it got him out of this situation sooner. The worst is Tetsuro can’t blame him, Tsukishima has many virtues, but he’s not one to bear undue embarrassment with a grin. It’s already a win that he even came down to talk to him when asked.

“Then I guess you’d better hurry up.” The blond says quietly, looking down at his hands, where his fingers are threaded together, clutching in a way that looks almost painful. 

That’s when Tetsuro notices the haphazardly taped white gauze around one of the blond’s fingers. “What happened?” he asks, and then, he _does_ reach out, only to stop when Tsukishima recoils as much as the couch’s armrest will allow him. “You’re hurt.”

Tsukishima shakes his head, in that way he does hen he really doesn’t want Tetsuro to push the issue. “I just nicked myself while cooking.” He looks away, finding interest somewhere among the plants behind the couch. “No big deal.”

“Be more careful.” Tetsuro chastises, quietly, carefully. And then, when Tsukishima frowns at him he doesn’t really know what to say. Him being who he is, there are six different ways to start, and then twelve others to follow up what he’s come here to say but somehow he can't seem to pick one. Nothing seems good enough for the man in front of him, nothing seems like I might fix seven years of holding back and letting the secret and it’s ramifications eat him up on the inside. “I-“

“Kuroo-“ They stare at each other for a second, until Tsukishima looks down again. “I was just going to tell you to go ahead.” his eyes meet Tetsuro’s, tired honey-gold burning a hole in his retinae and everything behind them. Dark circles shadowing them. “So, go ahead.”

“I came here-“ Tetsuro starts because it’s the first thing that comes to mind that doesn’t sound too sudden. “-two weeks ago. I didn’t know you’d gone too Italy then, so I sat around here, the reception girl even told me she thought both you and Kageyama were moving. I really believed it for a little while, even though it seemed far-fetched, and I just couldn’t-“

Tsukishima rolls his eyes at him. “I don’t speak Italian.” He comments, mouth tight. “And I’m in the middle of my contract.”

The blond doesn’t add anything, so Tetsuro continues. “Right. I thought the same, I just- For a second-“ he stares down at his hands, thumbs gently stroking the box in his lap through the plastic of the bag, at the way his dress slacks have already managed to become all wrinkly and disheveled-looking. “Where I’m going with this, Tsukki is that I didn’t come here on a whim. Some of these things I’ve been wanting to say since you left back in Tokyo. I just hadn't admitted it to myself, the whole thing took me a lot to come to terms with.”

When Tetsuro finally chances another look at Tsukishima’s face, he startles. “Well, you sure took your time then.” The tone is mean, but the eyes are hurt, that lead wall pierced through like gelatin by Tetsuro’s words, walls beginning to crumble, and in the back of his head, some stupid thing reminds Tetsuro that _he_ has been holding this in for a little more than a month.

That seven years wear on anyone, and Tsukishima must be rubbed raw from it all.

“I guess you’ve realized I’m a little slow at this.” He tries to joke, but it falls flat. Tsukishima is avoiding looking at Tetsuro with all his might. The blond’s whole stance reminds him of a spooked cat, ready to flee at the first sign of danger, at any threat of pain, more pain. “I also didn’t want to still be mad, there were a lot of things to process.”

At this, Tsukishima’s hands turn to steel claws, Tetsuro can see where his fingernails are digging harshly into the soft flesh, moreover, he sees the blond bite down on that red spot on his lip. 

He can’t help but scoot a little closer, and it takes all his self-control not to touch Tsukishima. “Look, I-“ his eyes burn, and he fixes them on Tsukishima. Fuck it, if he’s going to cry, he might as well not waste any energy trying not to. “I’m completely aware this doesn’t fix things Tsukki. But I’m here to tell you that you were right, in your e-mail.” He swallows around the knot at his throat. “I couldn’t see past my stupid hang-ups before, but god, I get it. I get why you didn’t tell me, and I can’t imagine how much it sucked to have to look me in the eye every time I was a dick about it.” Tetsuro sighs. “And I was a dick about it a lot.” He rakes a hand through his hair, tugging so hard it almost hurts. “Even if you knew I wasn’t saying that to you, I- I’m so sorry.”

The moment that Tsukishima spends just silently looking at Tetsuro like he doesn’t really believe he’s _here_ and saying what he is, is probably the most stressful of his life. It stretches, and, fearing it will snap like a rubber band stretched too taut, Tetsuro opens his mouth to start talking again, but Tsukishima beats him to it. “You’re not a mind reader. I’ve known that from the start.” He keeps avoiding Tetsuro’s eyes. “I told you. You don’t need to keep trying to make me feel, didn’t I? It’s not like I didn’t know what I was doing, or what was going to happen.” He sighs, and only then does he look up, staring at someplace behind Tetsuro’s left ear. “I appreciate the apology, I guess, but you really didn’t need-”

“Please don't think that me having lived up to your worst expectations is any kind of consolation, Tsukki. Maybe an explanation, but I still feel like crap about it” Tetsuro interrupts him, almost mad that he would take all the blame this way, hypocritical as it sounds. “You deserve the apology, I’m not trying to make you feel better- Well, I am. But you really do deserve it.” He takes a deep breath, searching Tsukishima’s averted eyes and clenched jaw for some sign. “And you also deserve some thanks.”

At least that gets Tsukishima to look at him, eyes wide in surprise, hands tightening further around each other. ”Funny, you seemed anything but thankful before.” He mumbles, a sad tilt t his mouth.

“Because I didn’t want to admit it-“ Tetsuro looks up at the faraway marquee, at the darkening sky even further above it, helplessness sweeps over him as he tries to find the words he’s thought of so many times the last few weeks. “You lied to me, you did. But you gave me everything I wanted at the same time, everything I said I was taking the pills for. All that was hard to reconcile.”

When he finally manages to look at the blond again -having had to blink a considerable amount to keep the tears back- he finds that it’s Tsukishima’s eyes that are growing redder, tears very visibly gathering on his lower lashes. “Kuroo-“ He grits out, looking equal parts of pissed and devastated. “-what’s the point of this?”

And then his resolve just breaks, the cracks in it turn to rifts and it bursts into splinter-like pieces. If he were thinking, he might be afraid they would cut either of them, but he’s not thinking and instinct takes over. Tetsuro slides over on the couch until their knees are almost touching and his hands cup Tsukishima’s intertwined ones. He clears his throat, looks straight into amber eyes, and hopes to every god that may be out there that Tsukishima believes him. “That you let me fall in love just the way I wanted to. No stupid voice in my head, no one pushing me into things I didn’t know if I even wanted.” He says, voice low. “You gave me just what I needed too, and that doesn’t change because I was too startled to be decent about it.” Tsukishima jerks his hands out from Tetsuro’s hold, but he follows grabbing for them again. “The point is that I love you, I love everything about you, and I really wish I’d gotten over myself a lot earlier.” He releases Tsukishima’s hands and grabs the bag from his lap, handing it wordlessly to the blond.

Tsukishima doesn’t take it though, his eyes are full of tears now and he’s trying to wipe them away furiously with the sleeve of his sweater. “I thought I-“

“Take it, please,” Tetsuro says, voice breaking before he has to bite down on his own cheek to keep from crying too. “Consider it a late birthday present, if you have to.”

Tsukishima, perhaps startled by the way he’s been handed the gift or the fact that it was very clear just now that Tetsuro is a harsh word away from crying, finishes wiping his face and takes the bag, reaching in a hand, gingerly and pulling out the shiny, unopened box inside. “You _know_ I'm not-“ he looks up, eyes deep abysses of hurt. “-I don’t-not _anymore_.”

Tetsuro looks back down at the box, at the -frankly, very expensive, latest tech- headset printed on it. “I know.” He purses his lips. “I noticed, of course, I did. Can I just- _why_? You love music, I don’t think more than a day ever passed between you breaking one of these and buying another until now.”

Tsukishima looks down at the box, bitterness coating the small, self-deprecating smile that his full lips stretch into. “I just don’t want to,” He holds the box out to Tetsuro. “That’s all, I think that need to always be listening to something that I had before is gone.”

Hearing him say that is more painful than anything else, hell, he would’ve felt better if the whole silent treatment it was just an elaborate ploy to make him feel like crap, to make him realize that no Kei was worse than any mix of ruckus and panic attacks. Or something of the sort. “Well, maybe you just passed it on to me.” He grits his teeth, but it’s not enough, not anymore, his eyes are growing blurry. “I know you have no way to tell, but, uh-“ He crosses his eyes over his chest, looking down. “Just keep them, if you don’t want to use them you don’t have to.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath as the first tear slides down his cheek. “But for the record, it would be a privilege to have you in my head.”

“You- You-“ Tsukishima sputters, tears streaming freely down his cheeks, brow wrinkled into an impressive frown like both anger and sadness are fighting to prevail inside him. “What gives you the right to show up like this?” And then he breaks, sobs, and Tetsuro’s heart might well have just been put into a grinder. “To-to say these things? I forgive you, alright? Do you even know how-Is t-that what you want to hear? I- do, alright? You’re forgiven and I hope I am too, so-” 

His arms have a mind of their own, his waist, his chest do too, as they wrap around Tsukishima and pull him close to Tetsuro’s chest. The blond struggles for a second, but then right before Tetsuro lets go, he goes limp, quiets sobs drenching into his shirt. “Let me win you over.” He croaks, hands rubbing soothingly at the blond’s wide back. “That’s what I want, t-that’s a-all.” He says, feeling more tears race down his face. “I-I know it was a shit situation. I know I made it worse, and we’re not gonna just jump back into things.” He buries his nose into Tsukishima’s hair, inhaling the familiar scent of the fruity shampoo he uses. “But I don’t think I can not love you, so please let me win you back, Kei.”

They probably make a pretty odd picture, two grown men, well over six feet tall, sat on a normal-sized couch clutching each other and crying like there’s no tomorrow.

Oh, fuck it, Tsukishima is in his arms, and no matter how temporary that is, Tetsuro can’t much care for whatever some random bystander might think. It’s not like they’re doing anything wrong, they aren’t even kissing, although he wouldn’t care then either.

Because this is it. What he claimed all those years he wanted, it was right in front of his eyes and he threw it all away. And, reasons aside, _this_ is not something you throw away.

By the time they’re both composed enough to talk, the sky above the marquee has gone dark, and there’s a chill to the lobby. More people start walking by, no doubt just arriving from work. And Tetsuro knows he can ask, he _should_. But fear is an ice-cold grip at the base of his spine, as tight as the circle his arms have come to make around Tsukishima’s waist.

So, it’s Tsukishima that speaks, but not before carefully, clinically extricating himself from between Tetsuro’s arms. “I said everything I needed to in the letter, I-“ He chokes up, lifts a hand to wipe at his red-rimmed eyes. And some prat of Tetsuro just _knows_ that his best wasn’t enough, that Tsukishima is lost for good. “Win me over, what do you mean by that?”

It’s a small voice, almost afraid, but the sliver of hope hiding behind it is enough to leave Tetsuro breathless and scrambling for words. “Just- let me be here?” he stammers, excited. “I’ll make it all up to you, as slow or as fast as you want.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, looking away from Tetsuro. Wistfulness plain on his face. “So, you’re going to court me?” he huffs, wistful.

“Whatever you wanna call it.” Tetsuro quips back. “I'll serenade you from the stands after every game you play if you want.”

After all, he hasn’t said yes.

Tetsuro waits with bated breath, heart in his hand, dripping imaginary blood all over the white leather. He feels strangely calm, the ball isn’t in his court anymore, if he’s facing an opponent he can’t beat, he doesn’t know yet. 

Tsukishima looks at him for a long moment, eyes and nose red, bottom lip quivering for a second before he places his hands on his lap and sucks the bused lip into his mouth. “Alright,” he says, not meeting Tetsuro’s eyes. “No serenading, but you can... be here, I guess."

His heart jumps up to his throat, racing a marathon, and Tetsuro can’t help but grin so wide that his cheeks hurt. “We could hang out tomorrow, or if it isn’t too much, I could help you with that meal prep? It’s going to be hard to do it with your finger cut like that. Whatever you feel is enough, we don't need to rush.”

Licking his lips, Tsukishima stands, he gives Tetsuro a brief nod before holding out a hand. It's not much, but Tetsuro is fluent in Tsukishima Kei, he recognizes the acceptance. And so, he takes that hand and lets himself be led upstairs.

.

.

So, when Kei -or at least the only part of his brain that is trying to function properly- invited Kuroo up, he wasn’t expecting him to _actually_ help out with the meal prep.

If he’s sincere, he was expecting to be slammed into the door the second they stepped over the threshold, he expected to be able to bury himself in Kuroo and be able to forget the great mess his head is right now. It just seemed what would fit their pattern the best, something predictable that might stall Kei’s inevitable freak out for a little while.

But here Kuroo is, sleeves of his fancy dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, his jacket long since discarded over the back of one of the living room chairs. He cleaned Kei’s blood up from the counter and chopped the carrots correctly, and now he’s making rice.

And Kei’s just watching, legs folded into his chest, arms around them, sitting on a chair he dragged in.

This whole situation seems little, but he doesn’t trust himself right now, so it may also be too much, he’s not sure yet.

Kei glances at the box with the headset on the table, he hasn’t unwrapped it yet. Is still debating if he should, really, because it’s such a thoughtful gift -convertible to wireless, noise-canceling, latest model, Kei isn’t quite up to date but it must’ve cost Kuroo a pretty penny- and somehow, he feels like he might just combust. Even if this is what he wants. Even if _Kuroo_ is what he wants.

Because it is, _he is_.

That’s the only thing he knows for sure right now, the only one he’d stake anything on. Even if he’s scared out of his mind. 

A part of him wants to make it so much more difficult, to be bitter, to string Kuroo along until that pettiness is satisfied. He knows Kuroo would give in, would play all his games, he’s that kind of person. That ugly, thick, corrosive feeling might even win, if an equally huge part of him weren’t hopelessly in love and demanding _he_ slam Kuroo into the nearest flat surface and make up for so many days missing someone whose bed he didn’t occupy for more than a handful of times.

The older man starts to hum. “Can we use some of these as dinner Tsukki? It’s getting late, and you look hungry.” He asks, grinning back at Kei, so wide that his eyes almost close, and for a second, it’s like nothing happened. Like Kei could just stand up and hug him from behind and rest his forehead on one of those broad shoulders.

Technically, he can. “Sure,” he shrugs. “Go ahead, there’s some non-frozen fish in the fridge.”

Hazel eyes turn to expect him, and this time Kuroo’s smile is tired. “Grilled?”

Kei nods, eyes inspecting every detail of Kuroo’s figure as it flits around his kitchen, seemingly having an uncanny ability to remember where everything is even though he barely was here like three times. Kuroo looks good, because Kuroo always does and Kei has found him attractive while quite literally bright yellow, so he’s not an unbiased judge at all, but his shirt seems to fit a little loose, and there are bags under his eyes that definitely don’t speak of just one sleepless night.

Kuroo cared, Kuroo felt guilty, Kuroo loves him. It’s hard to reconcile all of those when he has been trying to move on for the past month, and all this time it didn’t feel at all like they were truths.

But here is, truth, pretty much slapping him in the face.

Maybe Kei deserves it for doubting him, jerk or not, Kuroo was never the kind to have emotions so shallow.

For a second he feels like a jerk for getting jealous earlier, at leas he never told the other.

“I wish you’d stopped me.” He says without thinking, the volume of his voice just low enough that he hopes, for a second after the words leave his mouth, that Kuroo didn’t hear. 

That hope is short-lived though, because the man’s back stiffens, He finishes pouring the rice out into a few little plastic containers and turns around, walking to Kei with regret in his eyes, smile long since erased from his face. “At Tokyo?”

Kei nods, looking away from the warm hazel of Kuroo’s eyes. He doesn’t say anything, who knows what his mouth might run away with next. This much is bad enough.

“I know,” Kuroo mumbles, his left hand idly reaching for a tuft of hair that’s covering Kei’s right ear. “Me too. I’ve missed you a lot. I wish I could tell you that if I had this could have been fixed earlier.” The hand shifts and Kei feels the light touch of a thumb stroking his cheek. “But I can’t.”

Kei pouts. “I know.” It would have probably been worse, they might have ended up yelling at each other in front of Akaashi’s apartment, or maybe they would have had more ill-advised, breakup sex. “But you sure did take your time.” He says, leaning into the touch, feeling just a slight bit calmer. 

“You were in Europe.” Kuroo reminds him gently. “I did think of getting on a plane, but I didn't even know what city you were in, and then I talked to Sawamura and your scary brother-in-law, which was traumatizing, by the way-”

“Wait, you talked to my upperclassmen?” Kei asks, a little surprised. “Really?”

Kuroo shrugs. “And Yamaguchi, I didn’t know what else to do so-“ He lifts a hand to nervously scratch behind his neck. “I think I just needed kick in the butt. But I won’t do it again if it bothers you, hell, I hope I never have to think about doing it again, they kept threatening to call your brother on me.”

At that, Kei chuckles. “My brother wouldn’t hurt a fly, you know that-“ he meets Kuroo’s hazel eyes. “Now, Saeko-nee is a different story.” He smiles a little, and for the first time in the whole afternoon, it's devoid of bitterness or anything of the sort.

Kuroo grins back, a little hopeful, a lot nervous as he leans down to press a little kiss to Kei’s forehead, so fleeting all he leaves Kei with is the lingering warmth of his lips on the soft skin there. Just as they pull apart, the front door clicks open, and Kei jumps, of course, Kageyama wouldn’t stay late today. He turns to the kitchen door, sheepishly. 

Kageyama stands there, with his middle part, eyes narrowed at Kuroo even as he doesn’t direct any of his following words at him. “Oi, Saltyshima, need some help kicking this one out?” he grumbles, as he sets his gym bag down on the floor.

“Do I look like I’m trying to throw him out-“ Kei drawls back. “-relax, it’s- we- It’s fine, I invited him up.”

Kuro looks between them, fondness filling his face. “Why, thanks for defending me Tsukki.” He levels Kageyama with a look. “I guess I‘m adding another plate.”

Kageyama narrows his blue eyes at him, more suspicious and worried than angry. He hums in a way that sounds vaguely affirmative and then bends down to get his bag and disappears in the general direction of his room. 

Kei heaves out a relieved sigh, at least there was no blood. Though it really would have been best for the two of them not to meet like this, not when Kei isn’t even sure that he and Kuroo are back together, even if that’s what this whole thing seems to imply.

He busies himself with watching Kuroo finish making dinner in relative silence, like the fact that there’s someone else in the apartment with them has put a stop to any conversation that might be had. Although maybe that’s the smart thing to do, Kei muses, this thing may be good, it may be making him more than a little happy -in the part of him that’s _not_ freaking out and overthinking, of course- but it’s also new, and fragile. He has that strange feeling that if he reached out too harshly, it would tear to pieces without him making much of an effort. 

He really wonders how it’s going to continue beyond this night, but it’s not like it’s something they can plan out like a play.

Or practice.

It’s not what he wants though, so he helps set the table, and drags Kageyama out of his room when Kuroo calls saying that the food is ready.

The whole thing is more than a little awkward, Kageyama looks a lot like _he_ might start asking explanations from Kuroo. That he refrains from it is actually something Kei’s grateful for, although he can understand the feeling, when you've picked up someone from the bathroom floor more than a dozen times, you're kind of entitled to details.

-even now, sometimes, he wants to ask Hinata how it was so easy, how he moved on and never looked back, how he seems to have never noticed that Kageyama regretted those ten seconds for a long time-

Still, Kei’s kind of grateful “Shame you didn’t take the job in Italy.” Kageyama says, a small, self-satisfied smirk at the corner of his mouth. It’s the first thing anyone says since they sat down to eat.

Kei chokes a little on his fish. “You know it was never part of the plan.” He licks his lips. “I’m in the middle of my contract too, and my mom would cry.”

He chances a glance at Kuroo, who is pushing some vegetables around his plate before he finally looks up, steeling his shoulders, the grin on his face so fake it looks glued on. “You got an offer? That’s amazing! Which team?”

Kei licks his lips. “Same as him.” He jerks a thumb towards Kageyama. “I haven’t even played a full season here, either.”

Kuroo cranes his head to the side. “Right, and you’re close with your team. I could tell last time I was over there.” He looks a little relieved. “Congrats on the offer anyway Tsukki, I knew you’d start getting some soon, everyone knows you're good.”

“Right.” Kei hasn't known him for seven years for nothing, but it’s not the place to ask, with Kageyama here, and with Kei… Actually, yeah it may have just been too much for the day already, better to quit while they’re ahead.

Maybe Kuroo is just drained, he certainly looks tired, and, as they put the dishes away Kei’s overwhelmed by a familiar impulse to drag the older man to the couch and bury his head in his neck until they're both sleepy.

Should he? Kuroo said slow, and he’s definitely taking it that way, washing the dishes with a little smile on his face while Kei dries. “Hey-uh-“

“We both have busy days tomorrow, don’t we?” Kuroo interrupts him, and Kei has to admit that yes, they do.

It’s strange, he muses as he walks Kuroo to the door. Kei _wants_ the older man, wants to go back to how they were, but somehow it feels like Kuroo thinks it might be too much. And though Kei doesn’t quite know what to do about it, for today he’s tried, so he opens the door and stares deep into Kuroo’s eyes. “Well, good night.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo’s gaze drifts away. “Goodnight, can I, uh- Text you?”

“Yeah,” Kei bites his lip. “Yeah, you can.” He says dumbly, staring now not just at Kuroo’s eyes but at his lips.

And then Kuroo leans up, and Kei leans down and it’s the softest, chastest kiss he’s ever been a part of. It lingers for a few seconds before Kuroo pulls away, and Kei chases that warmth, but the older man is already saying goodbye and heading down the windy corridor towards the elevator.

Only when he closes the door does Kei realize that he really, really isn’t all that sure what just happened.

.

.

By the time Tetsuro arrives at his apartment, he's still wearing the dopey grin he left Tsukishima's house in.

That went... almost better than his best expectations -of course, his worse ones were that Tsukishima wouldn't even want to talk to him- things aren't where they were before.

But there's some hope, Tsukishima could have thrown him out without even listening, could have said everything was damaged enough and that he was happy to be free of all this after so much time. God, he really hopes things go well from now on.

Not that he's not going to try like hell, even if it isn't easy doing this slow thing.

Especially when Tsukishima was looking like that before, Tetsuro just wanted to wrap him up in his arms for a week or so until the dark bags under his eyes and his chapped lips go back to what he remembers them for that night at the restaurant.

And the kiss, good lord, maybe it was good luck that Kageyama got home when he did.

He starts the coffee pot and only then does he remember the other thing he was planning to give the blond today.

.

.

**_FROM: ME -20:24_ **

_I... actually made you a playlist._

_No pressure, though._

_Just in case you feel up to it._

_**link**_

.

.

Kageyama, despite school stereotypes, is probably the most like a cat out of Kei's friends.

He gets to watch a full episode of some random TV show with the setter only closing in on him little by little. At least he has sufficiently processed things by the time the other finally flops down on his usual side of the couch, a bowl of popcorn between his hands. Kei grimaces at him. "How can you eat more?"

The setter shrugs. "'s just popcorn," he shoves a handful of it into his mouth, before holding it out to Kei. "Want some?"

Kei eyes the popcorn, oh, whatever, he's had a hard day. "He apologized." He says, grabbing a fistful that he proceeds to eat much more gracefully, one by one. "And he gave me a headset that must have cost like half what we pay for rent."

"Well, it was about time-" Kageyama's eyes drifting suspiciously to the side. "-took him a whole month."

"He could have left things as they were," Kei says, shoving another kernel in his mouth. “I actually really thought he would.”

There's a pause, then Kageyama laughs. "Hmm, you really got back with him then." And he doesn’t sound bitter, or annoyed, he actually sounds a little relieved.

Kei grimaces “I think so?” he licks some salt off his lips. “He made this huge deal about getting me back and going slow, and then he came up here and made dinner.” His lips quirk up a little at the memory, a warm feeling spreading outward from his belly. 

Kageyama laughs louder this time. “That really sounds like you got back together.” He repeats, eyes on the TV. “Yamaguchi did say he would be coming.”

“Apparently he has been talking about me to everyone but me.” Kei grumbles.

Rolling his eyes at him, Kageyama holds the popcorn out to him again. “Yeah, because no one wants to get in the middle of _that_.” Kei takes a fistful of popcorn while glaring. “You two could be one of those cheesy Hallmark movies.”

“Except for you, right?” Kei says, leg reaching out to ick the setter softly on the shin. “You’ve had a front-row seat to the whole fucked up show.”

After Kageyama shrugs at that, he doesn’t feel the need to say anything else, he still feels somewhat confused, head full of questions and insecurities. But at least everything is at peace for now, and if even Kageyama doesn’t think he’s being an absolute idiot, maybe he can stop feeling so hypervigilant. 

After all, he’s the best witness to how -both literally and figuratively- myopic Kei can be, especially when it has anything to do with Kuroo.

He steals the popcorn bowl, sticking his tongue out at Kageyama like a five-year-old, and sinks into the couch. Crying always does make him sleepy, and god, he cried like a child down there. He didn’t check later, but there must have been a huge wet spot on Kuroo’s chest by the time that Kei was done. 

That’s when his phone buzzes. Kei reads over the messages a couple of times. He glances furtively at the box on top of the dining room table. _That,_ he doesn’t feel too ready to tackle, maybe if he went I and took a peek at the songs…

Kuroo never made playlists of his own before, after all.

**_FROM: ME -21:27_ **

_If it’s all Taylor Swift I’ll bite you._

He clicks on the link, it brings him to a playlist, aptly named, he supposes, _‘K’._ Something lonely, cold, and thick rises up his throat, he gets to the title of the first song before his phone is shoved into the couch cushions and his eyes are back on the TV screen. Kageyama -blessedly-doesn’t comment.

**_21:30_ **

_Maybe later though._

**_FROM: KUROO TETSURO- 21:31_ **

_Don’t mind._

_Hey, I’m open to you biting me._

_Because it_ is _like 20% Taylor Swift._

_._

_._

Kei doesn't answer Kuroo all through the next day. It's probably because the very first song in that playlist is straight out from one of his, a song he knows well, a song he can hear in his head without prompting, like a perfect recording, down to the instruments in the background.

And the lyrics just hit him in a way that doesn’t feel right or wrong, just final, just true. Kuroo has never been one to hide his emotions, and it's plain in that playlist too.

At least he's distracted by it all during a photoshoot rather than actual practice, and the director seems to like Kei's spacey -he says it's _wistful_ and faraway-look out of the fake window that they're having Kei stare through with a bored face while wearing a winter coat that’s way too many colors at once to be worn by any self-respecting individual.

Truly, truly Kei has been having a hard time reconciling, a hard time believing. He knows he can trust Kuroo, he knows, but maybe the month of thinking that _of course_ , he wouldn't be wanted back once everything came to light, and _obviously_ Kuroo had better prospects, may have left him a raw, outermost layer of his skin torn off, leaving the tender, burning inner one to be abused by everything that befalls him, good or bad.

And even the good stings a little.

So it's hard to believe, and with Kuroo being so measured, so careful last night, Kei feels like he might just unspool into a pile of anxiety on the floor.

Most of the shoot is for winter wear. "Put your hand under your chin," The director calls, and Kei sighs. "Right, like you're really wound up about something. You're a natural Tsukishima!"

At least he gets a nice scarf, sky blue cashmere. “If you want I’d love to work with you again.”

The final segment, has him modeling some merch, though. It's just a few, silly photos where they ask him to smile - _joyfully_! like he's Hinata or something- and hold stuff up for the camera while a fan blows at him for some reason. Kei ends up leaving with his cashmere scarf, but also a small frog plushie that he was way too polite to reject -more like way too distracted and embarrassed by the barrage of compliments that the director threw his way to reject-.

Back at his car, Kei spends about fifteen minutes sitting there, staring at Kuroo's long since read messages. The headset the older man gave him is still on top of his dining room table, gathering dust and crumbs and everything else it can. Still, his brain has decided to play that one song on repeat.

_It's only you, beautiful_

_Or I don't want anybody_

_If I can choose_

_It's only you_

Kei mouths along to the words, the only thing that keeps him from humming them softly is the fact that Kuroo would hear and-

And he doesn't know why it might embarrass him that Kuroo could hear but it does.

Quickly, before the rush of blood and bravery that thought fills him with, leaves him, Kei snaps a photo of the plushie. It's about the size of his hand, wearing a tiny Frogs shirt. 

**_FROM: ME -18:12_ **

_***image attached**_

_You usually like these._

_I thought you might want it._

As soon as he sends it, he feels somewhat calmer, like it's easier to give in, even if the uncertainty remains. Maybe it's because it makes Kuroo more than an idea, more than the person that Kei cut his own heart on, he's solid, he's present, he might want -he _wants_ , knowing him- Kei's stupid little plushie. 

He almost jumps when his phone buzzes right as he's laid it on the dashboard. 

**_FROM: KUROO TETSURO -18:15_ **

_YES_

_Uhm, I mean, very respectably yes._

_It's so cute :D_

_Look at the little frown, just like yours_

_How was your day?_

Kei feels himself smile a little. Heart filling up with fondness.

**_FROM: ME -18:17_ **

_You can have it_

_If you never imply that it looks like me again_

_Fine, shot._

_Apparently, my face looks like some model's._

_How about yours?_

**_FROM: KUROO TETSURO -18:20_ **

_Duly noted._

_I'll just think it to myself_

_In secret_

_Well, you're pretty enough._

_Meh, mostly paperwork. I was gonna drop by your shoot._

_But I wasn't sure you wanted me to._

_Anyway, when can you give me Mr. Froggy?_

**_FROM: ME -18:25_ **

_-_-_

_That's not any better_

_I do not look like some frog._

_I-_

_Well, I wouldn't have minded, but you don't have to._

_Tomorrow? Or Friday?_

_In the afternoon, right? Coach's going to be running me ragged._

**_FROM: KUROO TETSURO -18:29_ **

_Will you kill me if I get him glasses?_

_Awwww Tsukki_

_Noted!_

_I guess, Friday? I have a few things to sort out tomorrow._

Somehow, that makes his stomach sink in disappointment, a week still, it always does seem like things happen when they don't have nearly enough time to spend together.

Kei shakes his head, They're adults, life's like that. If Kuroo's busy tomorrow, then that's alright. Isn't the whole point of this that they're not rushing things, or at least Kuroo isn't. 

No matter how deflated it makes Kei feel.

But then, maybe that could change.

Maybe it should.

.

.

**_18:34_ **

_Unless you have time today?_

_Nbd if you don't but…_

**_FROM: ME -18:49_ **

_Whenever you have time is fine_

**_FROM: KURO TETSURO -18:54_ **

_I guess, Friday, then?_

.

.

Kei doesn’t know what he expected, it wasn’t exactly this cold, distant thing.

He also feels like a bit of an ass, though, because Kuroo has been the perfect gentleman, asking about his days, not pushing, not making any remarks that may upset him. Just coddling, and praising, and being generally perfect.

But that's exactly it.

Somehow Kei expected things to go back, at least marginally to how they used to be before the hole blow up happened, or even for them to revert to the ease he and Kuroo shared before they started dating. 

Instead, there's this whole spiel of politeness, and Kuroo brings him coffee once at practice, and then he kisses Kei goodbye, but that's it, it's all that happens.

It's driving him mad.

It was one thing the first night, on top of Kageyama appearing and him being a huge mess, but he wants what they had back. Or at least some semblance of it, he wants to bicker and he wants Kuroo to be a little shit.

And he does try, he strains himself to text when he doesn't feel like it, even tries to come on to Kuroo at one point. It only yields the other backing away a little and acting all coy.

The only thing he doesn't do is open the box with the headset -which is now on a shelf in his room-.

Or listen to the playlist.

He doesn't know why, it might help, at least Kuroo would know that he's not about to have a freak out for some inane reason, that in some way Kei yearns for him. Kei's stronger than that. And Kuroo knows that he _has_ to. 

Unless he's just softening some coming blow.

That's a silly thought, after all the trouble Kuroo just went through... He _knows_ that, he knows it makes no sense, but Kuroo has never acted like this and he can't help but be insecure.

Kei jumped, and maybe there’s no safety net.

By the time Friday arrives and he has to meet with Kuroo, Kei is feeling a lot more jittery than he was earlier in the week. He is not even sure he's doing the right thing anymore. All that goes through his head as he goes home to change and packs the Frog plushie that he promised to Kuroo is that maybe this whole thing is about to blow up in his face again.

His shoulders are so tense they hurt, that's probably not a good sign.

.

.

Tetsuro finds himself in a small Izakaya not too far from Tsukishima’s apartment.

It was his compromise, seeing as this ‘taking things slow and winning Kei back’ thing is thoroughly kicking his ass and it’s only been a week. A week of really wanting to take Tsukishima to his apartment and just be the way they used to be. And in turn restraining himself from a lot of things because it might get too tempting. Fuck whoever made his self-control, they definitely wrought it out of like, pretzels or really dry cookies.

He wanted to see Tsukishima today, hell, he would have stayed until the blond kicked him out last night if he didn’t think that would be pushing it a little far.

The bell by the door rings and Tetsuro’s head snaps up.

It _is_ Tsukishima, thankfully or he would have just been caught watching a stranger in a very obvious and not at all appropriate way. Tetsuro can’t help but appreciate the view, in the cold of November, Tsukishima is wearing a dark blue peacoat topped with a baby blue scarf that sets off the gold in his eyes.

His hands are bare though, the tips of his fingers red, just like the tip of his nose. Tetsuro desperately wants to kiss it.

Yeah, this ‘easing into things’ stuff is definitely kicking his butt.

But he doesn’t want to scare Tsukishima away, so he lifts an arm and waves enthusiastically. Tetsuro has chosen a high table, with two tall stools flanking it, not too far from the walls or too close to the very middle of the restaurant.

The blond walks over to him with long, purposeful strides, holding a small paper bag. Looking like everything Tetsuro has ever wanted.

It's almost funny, the contrast, a week ago he was still feeling hopeless, like the chance of Tsukishima forgiving him, let alone wanting him close was still something far-off, unlikely. Of course, he planned it all to ask for just that, because that's what he wants because he loves the blond. But he was aware that it all hinged on something he could not manipulate.

Tsukishima takes a seat in front of him, he smells sweet, even from across the table and it snaps Tetsuro right out of his thoughts. "You put Mr. Froggy in a bag?" He asks bringing a hand up to his chest in mock outrage.

"Did you think I was gonna bring a stuffed frog in my hand where anyone could see it?" Tsukishima answers, sliding the bag over the table to Tetsuro.

Tetsuro rolls his eyes at him, grinning. "Well, I guess you do have a reputation to uphold, your fan clubs keep calling you an Ice Prince." He grins wider at the dismayed look on the blond's face. "Their words, not mine, I know you're a teddy bear."

A flush rises to the blond's cheeks before he too grins. "You only think that because you're some kind of a masochist." His eyes narrows, mischievous golden pools. "And no, you can't get the Frog glasses, I know you were just about to ask."

"No, I'm not." Tetsuro quips back, "You just won't admit that you're a softy, but I remember very quickly that day you got sick."

"Well, at least I don't crawl around half-asleep, at least." He says, shooting Tetsuro a pointed look.

He's ready to retort, the banter between them a breath of fresh air, it makes Tetsuro feel a little hopeful, strange as it sounds. But then a well-dressed waitress interrupts to ask for their order. They ask for a pitcher of beer and an assortment of finger foods and meat to share. Once she leaves, Tetsuro takes the chance to pull the stuffed toy out of the paper bag, it has a silly little glare and a uniform.

"It really does look a little like you." he smiles, stroking the soft fabric idly, a rush of fondness fills him and he looks up, unable to help himself. "I'm really happy you wanted to meet me today. I missed you all week, but I guess it couldn’t be helped." He looks up at the blond. “We were both pretty busy.”

The smile the blond gives him is tight. “Yeah, I guess.” He presses his lips together, the nervous gesture not escaping Tetsuro’s notice. “Do you mind if we switch to one of the booths.”

Tetsuro blinks at him a couple of times. “I thought you’d like these more, with your long legs.” He glances at the tight little booths lining the wall, with their lush chairs and the semi-transparent curtains that hide their occupants from view.

God, he wants to, his back is cramping up.

But terror sudden seizes him, Tetsuro can’t fuck this up.

“So?”

“I- I think we should stay out here Tsukki.” He says finally, eyes straying over the modern, polished surfaces of the Izakaya.

Tsukishima's intelligent eyes study his face, like he's looking or something, though Tetsuro doesn't know what it could be. "You really can’t stand to be alone with me, can you?." The blond says, tone suddenly defensive. "It's fine, Kuroo, it was a long day anyway."

"I wasn't-" Tetsuro purses his lips, looking down at the plushie and putting it into the bag. "That's not it Tsukki, I want to be around you, I always do, I-"

But the damage is done, Tsukishima closes up like a clam, face growing guarded. "Right," he says, and barely speaks another word for the remainder of the meal. “Don’t worry about it, forget I said anything.”

All in all the beer is good, the food is decent, or at least it seems so, Tetsuro doesn't really taste it. He spends more time studying Tsukishima's pinched, closed-off face. He lasted what? Fifteen minutes before fucking it up? Five? That has to count as a record.

When they finish, Tsukishima one-sidedly declines any more drinks and asks for the check, which he hurries to pick up himself before rushing out of the restaurant, bottom lip sucked into his mouth in a stubborn gesture. Tetsuro chases, of course, he does, while he knew the other was upset, it didn't seem like something fitting of a reaction like this. It feels like something bigger, like maybe the blond realized this wasn't such a good idea after a few nights of good sleep and some talking to Kageyama. Tetsuro doesn't even want to think about it, but he can't deny that it's a possibility and-

Tsukishima has long legs but Tetsuro is a little desperate, and he catches up quickly enough, grabbing the blond by the shoulder. "Tsukki wait!" he calls. "What happened? What did I say?"

The blond turns around lip already bitten raw again, eyes wide and glassy. He throws his head back, biting back a groan. "It's nothing," he bites out. "Just let me go home, I’m tired, training ran long."

"It's not nothing," Tetsuro huffs, hand still tight around Tsukishima's shoulder. "Did you get mad about the Frog? Or was it about the chairs, you know I-" he looks down, feeling his bottom lip tremble. "Are you regretting saying yes to this?"

Tsukishima presses his lips into a tight line, eyes fixed on the pavement between their feet. "No," he grits out, pale as a ghost. "But I think you are and-"

"Of course not!" Tetsuro gasps, outraged. "I'm trying Tsukki. This is me trying because I _want_ to be with you, just tell me what you need because I don't know. I don't want to push you."

The blond shakes his hand off. "Well it doesn't look like that." he spits, mouth curling into a bitter sneer. "I'm not some kid and you keep treating me like I'm gonna break. You won’t even be alone with me, don’t you dare treat me like I don’t see what’s going on."

"Because I don't want to hurt you again!" Tetsuro snaps. "I don't want to scare you off."

"Oh, so I'm some sort of glass vase now?" Tsukishima all but yells, people are starting to stare. "Or stupid? If you think that of me then why don't you just-" he shakes his head.

Tetsuro stops in his tracks, letting out a shuddering breath. "Do you really want that?"

"No," the blond's shoulders sag, and Tetsuro rushes forward one of his hands tangling in blond curls and pulling Tsukishima’s shirt to his chest. "No, it's not." He pulls the blond closer, crushing Tsukishima's body into his, for such a long time that it feels like people are staring, but he keeps holding on until both his and Tsukishima's breathing calm down, until those long, elegant hands are clutching at his jacket, and the night is starting to get fairly cold.

Everything smells like salt, and cold, and the city's usual pollution. Tsukishima pulls away first, sniffing in time with Tetsuro. "Stop treating me like I'm going to run away." He sighs, looking away.

Tetsuro leans down and takes one of the blond's hands in his own. "Then?" he asks, because definitely his approach is not working. He should have talked with Tsukishima properly from the beginning. Even with Kageyama there, or in whatever way.

He really should have.

Tsukishima's golden eyes meet his a stubborn look in then, but at least they’re not teary. "Just act normal."

"Alright." Tetsuro sighs and then he starts tugging Tsukishima along in the general direction of the blond’s apartment. "Alright, c'mon, your hands are like icicles. I can’t let you freeze."

He’s not too sure yet, what he’s going to do when he gets there. Or better said, Tetsuro knows what he’s going to do, just not how. He needs to set things right, but it’s not going to be toto easy with Tsukishima as frazzled as he seems. Still, Tetsuro does need the blond to cooperate.

The blond follows Tetsuro with quiet steps, and doesn’t say even one word on the way.

.

.

Kei lets himself be led, it's easier, at least until they cross the threshold of his apartment -Kageyama is at Hoshiumi's tonight, Kei may have known this in advance of agreeing to meet Kuroo at the nearby Izakaya-, and he decides to simply fuck it.

Maybe it's not his brightest idea, but he grabs Kuroo by the lapels of the white shirt he wears and pushes him up against the wall crushing his lips to the older man's with bruising force. One of his knees slots between the older man's legs, and as soon as Kuroo's lips melt against his, the taste of beer pervading Kei's mouth, his hands slide down to the dip of the man's waist.

The short-lived moment is brilliant, Kei sucks on Kuroo's tongue and sees stars. Maybe fixing everything else isn't even possible, maybe both he and Kuroo were shooting for something unreachable, but they're always good like this.

Then there are hands at Kei's hips, he leans into the grip, only to find himself tossed over Kuroo's shoulder like some sort of potato sack. "Gods, yo're heavy." The man grumbles, hands tightening on Kei's hips with bruising force.

Oh, what the hell, it's hot.

Only, Kuroo doesn't take him back to his room, he sets him down on the couch, softly before racing down the corridor that leads to Kei's room.

"Kuroo, what the hell!" Kei shouts, too surprised, he starts to get up, huffing in annoyance when Kuroo's voice drifts down from his room.

"Just wait for me there!" The older man calls. "Trust me!"

Fuming, Kei sits back down, this was not what he had in mind, at all. Although, then again, maybe Kuroo has something, some surprise, not more of the same polished distance.

But then he comes back with a pile of fabric in his arms, part of which, Kei recognizes as his 'day' blanket, the one they used to watch TV under. He instantly deflates. "This is what I mean." Kei knows he's pouting, but hell, he has reasons to. He's pent up, and stressed, and really wants to feel Kuroo close.

Kuroo walks around the couch, he drops the blanket on one side of it, and only then, Kei notices that under it were his pajamas. "C'mon Tsukki, have a little faith," he says. "Let's just get you comfortable, ok-"

"Kuroo-" Kei grumbles, the worst is that the older man is sounding somewhat reasonable, somewhat like he might not be about to offer distance. "What are you-"

"I'm not gonna have angry sex with you Kei," he says, leaning down so his face is right in front of Kei's. "We might just end up fighting again and I don't want that." His hands find Kei's hips and he starts slowly tugging Kei's jeans down. "I promise I'm not going to push you away anymore. I was trying to make you comfortable but I see it had the opposite effect." His shoulders sag. "Let me cuddle you, I miss cuddling you." He says all this, of course, with hands that caress down Kei's legs, with pleading eyes that look up at him as he slips Kei's favorite pajamas up his legs.

Kei purses his lips, but he lifts his hips all the same, and he lets Kuroo do the same thing to his upper half. He's not exactly pleased, but it's a change, and when Kuroo settles down beside him on the couch he can't help the sigh that leaves him. "You should get into something more comfortable too."

Kuroo's face lights up and Kei's heart seizes. "Are you-" Kei frowns at him. "Alright, alright, try not to pout too much."

He's back soon, still pulling one of Kei's pajama tops down over his toned chest, and Kei has to refrain from protesting the sex thing. He doesn't discard it for the evening though.

Kuroo slides on the couch behind him, and after a moment of hesitation, warm arms wrap around his middle. In a second, Kei's back is pulled flush to Kuroo's chest, warmth seeping into Kei's very bones.

Or at least that's how it feels.

Kuroo buries his nose in Kei's hair, holding him close. "I'm sorry I made you feel like I was pushing you away."

"I should have asked instead of storming off," he admits, Kuroo smells nice and Kei half-turns around to meet Kuroo's eyes. "It was just... hard."

"Mmm, it's fine," Kuroo says, smiling down at him. "But we do need to talk, a lot."

Kei's arms come up to circle Kuroo's neck. "I know," he hesitates a little, "Can we stay like this for a bit, though?"

He hates himself for asking, but it feels too nice, and it's still so early. "Anything, Moonshine, I'll even throw in a massage if you let me." Kuroo leans down to kiss him for a second, not restrained or distant, it's just the way Kei likes it. "So, what do we watch? Dumb scary movie?"

Kei nods, he doesn’t really care, he curls into Kuroo’s chest, feeling held for the first time n a long, log time.

Maybe he can unpack the headset.

Tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we go! I have finally stopped being mean to the bbys.  
> There are still a couple of things to write but I'm pretty sure next one will be the last.  
> Thank you all so much. Your comments always make my day.
> 
> Love <3 Kyrye


	12. Hell was the journey (But it brought me heaven)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes i's just trying, and trying, and trying some more. And sometimes, that pays off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! It's done! OMG I never thought this would be such a behemoth, I've enjoyed it so much!  
> It was supposed to be finished like, on Monday, but I just got hit with the inspo today and-   
> I just- Thank you all so much for your support (and your patience lol)  
> Here it is!

Kuroo is humming softly at him when Kei wakes up. 

It's dark all around them, and familiar hands are stroking Kei's hair, massaging his scalp in a way that almost pushes him deep down the foggy cliff of sleep again.

He would be delighted to, truly, but furniture manufacturers don't really make couches for someone well over six feet tall to lie on comfortably, without curling into himself like a silkworm. His back is starting to hurt and he's pretty sure half his left butt cheek has lost all sensation in it.

The blurry outline of Kuroo's face is strong, back-lit by what little light reaches this far up from the streetlights way under them. It's at once so sublime and so familiar that he's frozen for a second while the mundanity of it dawns on him. Curled up in Kuroo's lap, like nothing ever happened, like life can really be this simple, He doesn't want to move, doesn't even want to breathe too hard for fear of disturbing this idyllic thing he has found at some non-descript hour of the night.

All he can do is listen, as always, and Kuroo is just humming, not singing.

That doesn't stop him from putting words to the music.

_Stay with me._

_Hold my hand._

_There's no need._

_To be brave._

_And all the quiet nights you bear_

"Seal them up with care-" he croaks, only half aware he's making a sound, he's still so sleepy that he allows himself to smile up at the other man.

Instantly, Kuroo's eyes snap back to his face, from wherever else he was looking. With such little light, Kei can't really make out their color, but he doesn't really need to, every part of him knows how they look. Same for the way Kuroo's mouth stretches into a soft smile, a little crooked, higher on the left side. "You looked so comfy-" he whispers like there's another living soul to wake up in the apartment. "-I just couldn't wake you up."

"What time is it?" Kei rasps out, stretching like a cat into the way Kuroo is still massaging languid strokes into his scalp.

Kuroo nods, head lolling to the side, and Kei can see how besotted he looks even in the half-light. "Somewhere around one or two," he answers. "I fell asleep for a little too, you were snoring a little and it was kinda calming."

Kei shoots up, arms bracing on the couch, eyes widening a little. "You should have told me," he says. "I mean- Do you still- You wanted to talk." his voice loses intensity as he speaks.

Right, Kuroo made that whole spectacle, and then Kei went and fell asleep on him. "I did. I do." His face is calm. "But you needed sleep, it's not like you went anywhere."

Kei wants to rebuff, it's so much easier to be mad, but he still clinging to that peaceful, sleepy warmth. "Let's talk then-" Kei purses his lips, the side of his body still pressed to Kuroo's chest. "Let's talk, co-" a loud growl interrupts him, and Kei feels his cheeks heat up. 

Kuroo's laugh shatters the tense atmosphere. "Hey, I'm not deflecting," he snickers, but then his tone drops an octave. "I'm not, but I kinda agree with your stomach, we didn't have dinner-"

"There's a twenty-four hour McDonald's I and Kageyama sometimes order to-" Kei offers because now that his stomach has been brought to attention, he's feeling the pangs of hunger stab at him every few seconds. He hasn't eaten since lunch, and the team's dietitian was already pretty cross with him when he came back from Italy with three extra kilograms that weren't exactly muscle, gone is his teenage metabolism, it seems.

The older man throws his head back, gasping out in mock offense. "Tsukki, it concerns me that you think I'd let you have fast food this late."

"We've had pizza for breakfast." Kei huffs, puffing out his cheeks, sitting up straighter and turning around so he is sitting beside Kuroo on the couch and not on him. "I know you remember that."

"We were both dying of that devil flu!" Kuroo exclaims. "I swear I would've eaten cardboard, I couldn't have known the difference." He's waving his hands around his head, but when Kei looks at his face it's fondness that's plain on is, that crooked smile for him and only him.

He shrugs, pretending to inspect the tips of his fingers. "We still had pizza for breakfast." he mimics the smile, bumping into Kuroo's shoulder purposefully. "You're just confirming that I'm right," he rolls his eyes at the other, somehow feeling lighter than a feather and way too full all at once. "I want creamy greasy food-" he looks at Kuroo in a way Kei knows the other is weak for. "McDonald's?"

"Oh no, no, no, not the puppy eyes-" Kuroo covers his eyes, laughing. "Can I at least _make_ you something creamy and greasy? I'm sure there's enough unexpired stuff for something decent in your kitchen."

For a couple of seconds, Kei watches him through narrowed eyes, feeling playful, but also a little put off. It's true that he doesn't have much in the way of relationship experience, but the fight they had felt bad, not as bad as that time, but bad enough that maybe Kei should be a little bit more of a mess than he currently is. "Fine, I think there's still some of that fancy cheese we got in Italy." It may not be quite rational, or maybe he's too afraid to trust the hope that he sees in Kuroo's face, that he feels in his chest. 

But somehow it feels like this is going to be fine.

"That's a start," Kuroo stands up. "C'mon." He heads for the kitchen, and Kei follows suit, mostly because he and Kageyama don't quite cook unless decent, healthy takeout isn't on the table. And sometimes, even when it is, hence the fact that they have the number of that McDonald's. So he's sure he's going to be pretty amused seeing what Kuroo whips out. Not that the man has ever disappointed him with his cooking.

A sort of nostalgic familiarity fills him, thick and heady and creamy like the food he was just craving, as Kei slides up on his counter to sit there, long legs dangling from the edge of it. "Kuroo-" he calls, and there's a knot in his throat.

The older man stops fluttering around the kitchen at the sound of his name, eyes growing a little wide as he walks closer to Kei. "Is something wrong?" A hand brushes softly over Kei's pajama-clad thigh.

Simplicity is a funny thing, Kei hums, the pain and the incoming teas gone as fast as they appeared. "My pajamas are loose on you." he snickers, tugging on the sleeve of the shirt Kuroo is wearing.

The stunned expression gives way to amused mischief. "Oh is that how you wanna play?" he asks, before leaning up and pressing his lips to Kei's catching him unaware. "I can still carry you just fine," he whispers against Kei's lips. "And you know that."

Kei sighs, though he doesn't know how because all air was knocked from his lungs the moment Kuroo got all up in his space. "I never said that, You get worked up over tiny things. Not cool at all Kuroo-san."

An undignified squeak and a flash of red cheeks are all Kei sees from his boyfriend before the man is back on his task, plucking cream, pasta and god knows what else from his and Kageyama's messy cupboard. It's not until he's greasing a casserole dish that Kei has never seen before that he speaks again. "I didn't mean to keep you at arms-length this week-" he says, eyes on the dish. "-I just wanted to do things right, go slow. You're not someone I'm willing to risk hurting-" Kei opens his mouth to protests, but Kuroo holds up a hand at him. "-I don't mean it like that. You're strong, I know that. I just feel like- lie- I'm too lucky to be with you and I don't want to lose you again."

It's not what he expected, and Kei is so surprised by the words that he's overcome by the urge to laugh. "You're unbelievable-" he snickers. "-Kuroo, this is not an Otome game. If something stupid lie that was going to make me kick you out you wouldn't be here."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry." Kuroo sighs. "I'm not sure I was that ready either, and I didn't want to freak out on you."

"You sort of did-" Kei heaves a sigh of his own. "And I mean it's fine if you- Are you making baked mac and cheese?"

The grin that appears on Kuroo's face at Kei's awed tone is roguish. "Yup," he says, putting the mixture filled dish into the oven. "I was thinking while you slept, you know?" The oven door clicks shut and Kuroo turns to Kei, hand raking through his hair nervously. "And I realized I was _over_ thinking the whole thing. We're good together Tsukki, let's just be _that_."

Kei looks down at where he's fiddling with his fingers on his lap. "Ok, that's all I wanted."

A second passes, then a few more, he doesn't look up, feeling somehow like a whiny indulged child. There's a beep from the oven's general direction, and then there's warmth closing in and him pulling him forward until he's tucked into Kuroo's chest. 

The position isn't comfortable, but Kei leans into it anyway. "Don't pout, it's my pleasure,it's never a bother to know what you need," Kuroo says, voice so soft Kei's sure even someone else in the kitchen wouldn't have been able to hear. "I love you, Kei."

His quiet mumble into Kuroo's chest doesn't go unnoticed, Kuroo clutches him tighter than before, but he doesn't say anything.

He understands, Kei knows he understands. And the macaroni turns out unexpectedly good.

And all that is enough.

.

.

By the time he left Tsukishima's apartment on Saturday, it was way past lunchtime, and the only reason Tetsuro didn't stay for dinner was that he was already going to have dinner with his grandparents and though the train ride to Tokyo isn't that long, he always likes to get there early to help out.

-and, sweet as his grandma is, he's not going to risk upsetting her more than he already has by basically going MIA for the last month, besides, she makes really great food-

He even thought f inviting the blond, but due to his aforementioned disappearance form his grandma’s radar, she’s probably going to be both extra fussy and extra teasing today.

And she does have his baby albums, so…

Yeah, he can bring Tsukishima next time, it’s not a big deal -well only if you set aside the fact that he has never introduced anyone to his grandparents and this is the only person he even considered introducing-

The second he passes through the threshold, a knife is shoved in his hands and he's given the task of chopping up vegetables. "Hello to you too Obaa-san," Tetsuro huffs, smiling at the short, plump figure stirring a pot of stew in pristine house clothes. "Where's Ojii-san?"

She clicks her tongue, affection quirking up the corner of her mouth the same way Tetsuro knows it does his on occasion. "Out back pulling out weeds, now don't go there yet, you know he's going to have you do it instead and come in here to do some puzzle or other. Besides, my poor hands hurt today so I can't chop up the vegetables."

Tetsuro scoffs but tends to the pile of vegetables anyway. He assesses then starts with the onions, the movement so familiar, he barely pays attention as he answers his grandma. "Yeah, right. Don't think I didn't see the knitting over the kotatsu when I came in, you just left it there didn't you?" he laughs. "You just finally got him out there because he always promises he'll do the weeds and then forgets or has someone else do it."

"Tsk," she turns to smirk at Tetsuro. "That man needs to get some more fresh air, he's always doing crosswords inside, I swear." She turns back to the pot she's stirring. "Unlike your father, I haven't heard from that one since... oh, I think August. He was somewhere in Hokkaido."

"I talked to him last week." Tetsuro shrugs, barely recalling the rushed call. "He's going to Korea, but he said he'll try to be back in time for New year's."

"So he'll be around for your Gramps' birthday in February-" she laughs, too used to her son's wandering ways. He tried when Tetsuro was young, but even then his career already had him traveling often. And when Tetsuro went off to college he just went on to do what he does best. No one resents the man for it, but it is quite glaring that he's not around much.

Tetsuro sets aside the cut onions. "Yeah, pretty much," he answers. "How's your hip been? don't tell me you're standing around like this and it's still hurting."

She waves him off, hip bumping into his as she reaches for a wooden spoon. "Meh, that was just a little fall. I didn't break it! You heard the doctor Tetsuro, it was just a _fissure_." He can almost see her rolling his eyes even though he's looking at the back of his head. Well, he had to get his stubbornness for when he's sick from someone. "How about you. You look like you just won one of those game shows. Did you finally find someone?"

And just like that, Tetsuro feels lie a grade-schooler caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Uh-"

"Why is he not here at dinner with us?" She turns around, and though she's almost a foot shorter than him, her eyes drill holes in Tetsuro's face. "Young man, you promised!"

"I- we-" Tetsuro can feel the hot flush rising to his face. "We just got back together! Like on Monday." He looks away, grabbing a radish and swinging his knife down on the reddish skin. "He's my soulmate, actually."

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see his grandmother's eyebrows rise in surprise. "Oh my, so you finally stopped doing that silly pill thing then?" she asks dryly. "If you did you really should get your father to, I'm so scared of the day he'll get sick because of those things and-" she must see it on Tetsuro's face. "You got sick from those, didn't you?"

"It was just-"

"And you didn't call." She purses her lips, disappointment clear in her face, and Tetsuro kind of wants to melt into a puddle right then and there.

"Sorry? I'm totally fine! I promise!" He lets the knife clatter on the counter and lifts his hands in a placating gesture. "The doctor said I shouldn't have any lasting damage to my lever."

He's barely done saying that last word when he feels the dishrag swat him in the arm. "Should? You young people-" she grumbles something that he can't catch. "Now you have to bring him to dinner next time if only to make it up to me for not calling, I swear-"

"Tomoe? Is Tetsuro-kun here? Are you hassling him again?" A voice calls from the back of the house.

"With due reason!" She bellows back, huffing and going back to stirring her pot. 

A couple of minutes later Tetsuro's grandfather peeks through the doorway, immediately going to him and wrapping him in a hug that rivals Bokuto's in tightness. "My boy! How have you been?"

"I-"

"He has a boyfriend," his grandmother interrupts playful pettiness coating her tone. "A soulmate boyfriend, and he didn't bring that poor boy to dinner like it would have been good manners to," If he weren't the one being so savagely attacked, Tetsuro would have laughed at the phrasing.

His grandfather grins, a hand clapping over Tetsuro's shoulder. "Is that so?" he asks, and Tetsuro nods. "Well you won't be off the hook next time." he rolls his eyes. "I guess that's why you look so happy."

With a short laugh, Tetsuro can confirm that yeah, he is.

And then, later on, when his belly is full of warm food and he's setting up to sleep in his childhood room, music starts playing in his head.

And not just music, no, the playlist he made for Tsukishima, the one he’d kind of given up on.

He really is happy.

.

.

_Angels with silver wings_

_Shouldn't know suffering_

_I wish I could take the pain for you_

.

.

**_FROM: AKI-NII -16:34_ **

_I'm coming over._

_Do you want curry or Italian for dinner?_

**_FROM: ME -16:37_ **

_Why?_

_Italian._

_Did Tadashi say something?_

**_FROM: AKI-NII -16:40_ **

_Ok, I'll pick some up._

_Nope._

_But Ryuu-kun did._

_Be glad I'm not bringing Saeko._

_And get that Jurassic Park ready._

Kei stares at his phone in horror.

Well, not really _horror_ , but Akiteru can get pretty intense when he goes all Older Brother on him. And it's not like he hasn't been expecting this, god knows his brother talks enough to both Tadashi and Tanaka-by virtue of being married to his sister-, and the latter cant keep his mouth shut anyways.

Kuroo did mention that he spoke to them -and Sawamura, Kei both shudders when he thinks of how that conversation went and feels just a little bit vindicates- so it really was just a matter of time.

Looking down at himself he realizes that he hasn't even changed out of his pajamas. Granted, after gorging on Kuroo's macaroni and cheese -and some of Kageyama's milk- at three am, both of them went to sleep, -just sleep to Kei's frustration, but oh well, he doesn't feel as annoyed about that anymore- for most of the morning, then slept and watched a bunch of dumb TV shows until Kuroo had to go to Tokyo to visit his grandparents.

The warm water of the shower wraps him in delightful comfort. The floaty feeling that has been with him since he woke up for the second time today in a tangle of limbs, with Kuroo's face shoved into the crook of his neck, refuses to leave. And Kei kind of pokes and prods at it, as one would a loose tooth, carefully, with enough wariness that he barely makes any progress. Because it's not like he wants it gone, this whole thing is pretty nice after all. But it _is_ strange, he was used to feeling giddy when Kuroo was around, only to fall back into doubt and stress the moment the other left. It's not happening this time though, and he can't decide if it's good or he's just as deep into this as he's been fearing.

Getting out of the shower and dressing in house clothes is done in automatic, and then he drapes over his couch to watch some of the Green Rockets' games because it's pretty likely they're going to be facing them next week and that's a household name.

Akiteru arrives when it's already dark outside, holding the takeout bags in one hand and a box of strawberry shortcake from the store that gave Kei his liking for the dessert in the first place. For a second he wishes Kageyama were here, but apparently things with Hoshiumi are going well enough that he's staying over there to help the man pack -or that's what a very incoherent text that Kei got at five am this morning seemed to imply-.

"You know, I could rat you out to mom." Is his response to Kei's frown upon opening the door. "And then she'll start setting you up on dates again, the Moriyama's' son is single and she likes him."

It only makes Kei frown harder. "If you tell mom before I do, I'm gonna tell her she probably won't get any grandchildren from you."

Akiteru shoulders past him, laughing. "You know that's not true."

"But it will take forever to convince her, and she's definitely not getting any from me..." Kei snorts, eyes narrowing at Akiteru's pout. "Or I could tell her that she is probably about to get one, I suppose. She'd knit you enough bright yellow baby clothes to drown the two of you in them."

When the bags are set on the table and Kei is getting some plates from the kitchen, Akiteru finally answers. "You do know hs is what brothers do, right?"He huffs. "I'm being a good brother."

"You showed up at my house threatening to tell mom something you probably don't know all that much about." Kei turns around, plates, and cutlery in his hands. "Ok, fine." he sighs.

"Fine, you're going to tell me?" Akiteru props his hip against the doorjamb. "Or fine I can tell mom?"

His answering groan can probably be heard all the way to the elevators. "I need food before." He purses his lips, walking past his brother. 

"Well, that's why I got you the shortcake." Akiteru says innocently, "I'm nothing if not a caring older brother."

"It's bribery, it's what it is," Kei says, even as he plates all the food and sets it on their usual places on the table. They sit down, almost synchronized, Kei doesn't say anything else.

By the time Akiteru actually decides to ask, he's halfway through his dish. "So I take it we're happy? You're not drinking yourself dumb with Tobio-kun and you're being half as mean as usual so..."

Kei shoots him an annoyed look. "Yeah-" he starts. "-yeah, we're happy." he looks up at Akiteru, munching thoughtfully on a piece of fettuccine. He does notice Akiteru's doubtful look, though. "What did Tanaka even tell you?"

The older man looks guilty for a second, but it's replaced by determination soon enough. "That you found your soulmate and apparently were stubborn enough not to tell him that he was your soulmate for seven years." he pauses, a thoughtful look on his face. "And that the soulmate is kind of a jerk but you dated him until he found out anyway."

Wrinkling his nose, Kei glares at him. "That last one is kind of backward," he says. "He's not usually a jerk."

Akiteru sighs. "Well, tell me, I'm worried." he huffs. "You ran away to Europe, we were worried. And Tobio-kun guards your secrets better than his own."

"Unlike others-" Kei purses his lips, he knows he's going to tell Akiteru but starting is always difficult. "Look, we're good, he and I are good-" he stops to breathe for a second. "Do you really want me to tell you everything?"

Akiteru's eyes meet his, he smiles and it makes crinkles appear at their corners. "With all the dirty details-" it dawns on him, and he grimaces "Actually no, no dirty details, I don't think I could sleep again, keep it PG."

Kei has told this to a bunch of people a bunch of times, this is Akiteru, it should be easier.

He sighs and starts talking.

It takes finishing their meal and the shortcake before Kei even gets to what actually happened, to where everything unspooled and got fucked up. And if he's ever doubted Akiteru and his soulmate were well matched -which he really hasn't, they fit, even if that whole thing led to Kei ending up being in-laws with Tanaka of all people- the look in Akiteru's face then dispels any doubts he may have had. It makes him feel like he has to hurry to assure him that no one should trap Kei's boyfriend into a Taiko. 

"Well, it seems you guys are at a decent place now," Akiteru says after he finishes, leaning forward, elbows planted on the table. "I am going to want to meet him though, and maybe have a little talk."

"Nii-san!" Kei protests, laughter in his voice. "That's really all?"

"It seems you two solved it-" he hums. "I mean, I could always tell you that you were both idiots, but..." he sighs throwing his head back. "Do you remember how mom got after Saeko ran me over with her bike and we found out we were soulmates?"

Not quite sure where this is going, Kei shrugs. "She wasn't happy... Isn't that why you two didn't start really dating until a Christmas that year?"

Akiteru's hand rises to nervously scratch under his chin. "Eh- it's why we didn't tell mom we were dating until then." he looks both amused and a little guilty. "I get where mom was coming from, especially with... you know..." he gestures around himself and Kei just knows he's talking about their parents' situation. He nods. "And she was just looking out for me, Sae didn't make a good impression-"

"She walked into your hospital room holding your bloody bag and said 'sorry I roughed you up buddy, look both ways before crossing the street'" Kei points out. "You broke your tibia."

"And then she drove my ass around until I got the cast off." Akiteru sighs, hand messing up his hair. "I mean that I'm not half as stubborn as you, and I kept on." He looks at Kei. "And you got back with him, so I know you're not going to back down either, especially because it was also partly your fault."

Kei cranes his head to the side, if he were anyone else he'd be laughing nervously. "To a degree."

"Yeah, so..." Akiteru mimics his gesture. "I hope you don't have any more trouble, and you two need to have dinner with us at some point so Saeko can properly terrify him, but yeah."

"Yeah," Kei echoes, and that's that.

They do end up watching one Jurassic Park movie before Akiteru has to leave. 

Kei does realize he has done little in the past went four hours, but he's sleepy and warm and so full he feels like his belly is bulging out. He turns off the TV, the Green Rockets can wait until tomorrow. 

There's a book he got for his birthday -from Nishinoya, of all people and by mail- so he gets to look for it in his room, trying to place the yellow and blue cover. it has a silly title, something about love and cholera, but it sounds like he could make some good headway into it while sleep takes a hold of me.

He feels the pull before he remembers that the last time he saw the little book he was placing the headset box -the headset Kuroo gave him on top of it and closing the wooden closet door.

It's possible that he stands there for upwards of five minutes, staring at the spine of the book under the box. 

His hands reach out for the book, but both of them find themselves occupied by different items.

Kei turns around and heads for his bed, crinkly plastic wrap already coming apart between his fingers. 

.

.

_I pray you learn to trust_

_Have faith in both of us_

_And keep room in your heart for two_

.

.

So maybe he went a little bit overboard.

A little.

He could have made a banner, so this is really not that much.

Tetsuro is sitting on one of the front rows of Kamei arena -as he should be since he's not on the clock, no corporate monkey tonight, oh no- wearing his Frogs hoodie and holding a little green flag in each hand.

Down in the court, he can feel a pair of amber eyes glued to his very conspicuous form. From this distance, he can't tell if Tsukishima is glaring or just squinting.

Tetsuro was excited, who can blame him? Asking Tsukishima if he could come was a little daunting -and he did consider just showing up with the excuse of work but the blond knows today is his day off- and when he said yes, Tetsuro may just have channeled a small excited puppy.

So he's here, with his flags and his hoodie -and green does not look as good on him as it does in Tsukishima, not by far- and maybe he should've asked about that too.

Or like brought someone along with him because the only other two people dressed like he is are two shiny-eyed college girls -one of whom has an actual Kyoutani plushie, do they make those? if they do Tetsuro is so getting a Tsukishima one. Life-size if possible, like the ones in the memes.-the other is dressed head to toe in green. Just seeing them he feels both a little old and a little ridiculous, and he knows Tsukishima likes his suits. But hell, he's already here, wearing what he is, and he's not going to stop cheering for his perfect talented boyfriend for it.

In fact, as the game progresses, Tetsuro finds himself sitting with the college girls and cheering with them. It's nice, seeing as lately he watches most of his live games half paying attention and half solving one or another thing for the JVA.

So he gives up, and screams and cheers and gossips with the college girls -the plushie is custom, Tetsuro gets the store name anyways-, and he cries with them when the Frogs lose.

The fact isn't wholly surprising. The frogs have indeed been on a streak ever since they got into Division 1, just one friendly match lost. And the Green Rockets are ranked highly, have been for a while now, they do their team name honor by being terrifyingly quick, so much so that Tsukishima is barely landing from a block and the rally is at a whole other point, and no matter how many balls he shuts down or deflects, it's never quite enough.

Besides, Tetsuro remembers one of the guys there being among the top thee national aces in his senior year, so...

Tetsuro is not quite as giddy as he was when starting out the match by the time he sneaks down one of the arena side doors to the players' area, flashing his JVA ID to the people form security without much thought.

This time Tsukishima is one of the first players to dribble out of the changing rooms. There''s no jovial air like the other times, but no one seems terribly put out either, most of them have probably had the same thought as Tetsuro was just having before, and you don't get this far without at least a couple of losses. Tsukishima too, has that look in his eyes, disappointed, a little annoyed, but mostly calm. He's strong, he's not going to fall apart.

That doesn't stop Tetsuro from wanting to wrap him up in his arms and kiss the hurt out of his eyes, however small or insignificant it is.

When it presses to his shoulder, Tsukishima's cheek is warm, his body a solid weight, as the scent of his shampoo seeps over. "Can we go for a drive?" he asks in a noticeably small voice.

"Sure." Tetsuro croons, one of his hands rubbing circles into Tsukishima's back while the other laces it's fingers through Tsukishima's. "Where do you want to go?"

Tsukishima straightens up, smiling a little, he shakes his head. "Just don't get us into any traffic jams."

There are curious faces around them, the blond's team is not blind. But at least they all look more pleased than anything else. The guy with the light brown hair from last time is here too, and he gives Tetsuro a little smile as they walk away.

As they go out, the blond keeps Tetsuro's hand grasped in his, tightening ever so slightly as they pass by a few other people.

Outside, the night is chilly, November is barely starting but it's enough that by the time they make it to Tetsuro's car, Tsukishima's nose is pink and his free hand is shoved deep into his sweatpants.

Slipping inside, Tetsuro turns on the car's GPS while Tsukishima straps himself into the passenger seat, sighing softly as he sinks into the chair. "I don't mind if you wanna get something to eat," he says, looking at the other cars parked outside. "It's getting late."

Tetsuro shrugs. "I ate before coming down here," he answers. "But we can swing by anywhere if you want. Isn't your team getting drinks or something?"

"Well... yeah." Tsukishima leans his elbow on the door. "I'm not in the mood, and I'm not that hungry either."

It's still grating to lose, even with the experience, even knowing it had to happen at some point. Tetsuro lays a careful hand on Tsukishima's thigh and leans in to press a kiss to the man's soft cheek. "Got it Moonshine," he grins. "Hey, how's your face so soft? I've seen you with stubble like twice too."

Tsukishima shrugs. "Dad and Akiteru are the same, he looks down at the phone in his hands. "Genetics, I guess."

"Lucky," the car rumbles to life under them, vents starting to blow out heated air. "You can put on some music if you want," Tetsuro says. "Or I can, or we can just put on the radio-" he babbles.

The blond looks back at him for a second, then, wordlessly connects the phone's Bluetooth to the car and music starts playing.

The GPS takes him to the outskirts of Sendai, and then to the highway that thankfully isn't all that crowded, it's only then that Tsukishima speaks, eyes faraway. "Thanks for the headset," he says primly. "It's a good one."

Eyes steady on the road, Tetsuro smiles. "I know, you've been using it this week." he taps his fingers on the wheel, something a little mournful is playing and the mechanic nature of driving is calming him down. "I got it based on your old one," he says. "Only with purple accents instead of green because it suits you too... I've been using your old one, though, it's good."

"I know," Tsukishima mumbles and then he's looking at Tetsuro, and there's this little smile on his face that would melt Tetsuro if he wasn't currently driving them both.

That's why it takes a him while to realize. "I thought you were still taking the pills-" he says awkwardly. "I saw them in your bathroom the other day."

The blond snorts. "That bottle has to be expired." he draws his long legs up to his chest, sock-clad feet planting on the seat. "I stopped a long time ago. Kinda took you for an example."

"H-how long ago?" Tetsuro asks, swallowing around the lump that has suddenly formed in his throat, concentrating instead on the way the highway lights drift across the wheel and the dashboard. "After we got back together?"

By now, they are a little far from the city, not much, but just enough for the sky to bare some faint stars, and a waxing moon to wink at them through a thick cloud. The moment between Tetsuro asking the question and Tsukishima answering it feels like a long-held breath. Like a gap in the fabric of the universe, too real and also too untangible. "Since we got together." Is the answer, and it makes Tetsuro's heart sink to the bottom of his stomach.

A jumble of words fight to make their way out of his throat. "I'm sorry, Kei. It must've been hard," he says, hands gripping the wheel tightly. "I love you, you know?"

For a second he feels like he just might be about to be broken up with, this whole scene seems perfectly set up for that. His heart races, but then there's a hand on his thigh. "I know." Tsukishima is looking at him, eyes reflecting the moon outside, and god that's cliche but he couldn't look more beautiful. "Tetsuro."

"Hm?" his vocal cords seem to have suddenly forgotten how to work.

"Let's go back." he clears his throat. "To your apartment, I mean." For once, his voice is gentle, there's a hint of a question in it, and Tetsuro knows it would be alright to propose something else.

He takes the next exit back to the city.

.

.

Making it up to the actual apartment seems to be beyond them though.

It was a kiss when Kuroo parked the car, supposed to be short, teasing. And then it was hands-on Kei's waist, a mouth on his throat. Before he knew it he was climbing over Kuroo's thighs on the driver's seat, not exactly a great fit with how tall the both of them are, but the moment Kei started grinding his hips into the older man's he forgot about any edges digging into the flesh of his legs.

Juvenile as it is, there's a thrill racing up his spine, he feels like a teenager even though he never did this as a teenager, and when Kuroo's mouth starts sucking a hickey into his collarbone Kei throws his head back, moaning for anyone passing by to see.

It's like he's tethered to Kuroo like he couldn't get away if he wanted to, if he tried.

But he does want this, _need_ this, has for almost two months now and that might not seem like such a long time but it feels like it, it feels like eternity wrapped in tears and silence and Kei wouldn't have anything else.

In two weeks, he came to want Kuroo like this, even with two months of absence in between then and now.

His head spins, he doesn't want to know how it would feel if more time passed, he couldn't stand it.

But he's sure Kuroo wouldn't either, that's how hard he's being kissed, held, like there isn't anything in this world that would keep the other from Kei. Like the short elevator ride up to Kuroo’s apartment is too long for them to pretend to be respectable human beings not about to tear each other's clothes right off. 

Terrifying, that's what it is.

But it’s also all he has ever wanted, all he could never let go even if it had stayed gone when it did.

Bright yellow light washes over them, stark in the near darkness of the parking lot. Startled, Kei jumps, pain blooming along the black of his head, a whine escaping his mouth. "Fuck."

"Careful," Kuroo calls as the lights disappear somewhere behind them. "Did you hit it hard?" he asks, one of those skilled hands rubbing over the sore spot in the back of Kei's head. "Let me take a look, Moonshine."

Kei bends awkwardly to rest his lips on Kuroo's shoulder, not far from where his teeth have already made their mark in the older man’s skin. If Kuroo hopes for the neck of this hoodie not to be stretched out beyond a point that would hinder future use, he'd better take it off sometime soon. The dome light flickers on and Kei huffs. "That wasn't going to hurt me, the roof is padded Tetsu." Besides, he really wants to get back to what they were doing. “I was just startled.”

"Mhmmm," Kuroo says, inspecting Kei's hair anyways, fingers running through it, tugging at tangles. "Still had to make sure, your hair's so pretty."

Maybe Kei will hold back on the cut he had planned, or so he thinks when Kuroo presses a soft kiss to his temple, before tilting his chin up and claiming his lips. 

There's really no better word for it, that's what Kuroo _does_ , he slips his tongue inside, like he wants to taste Kei whole, and then he breathes puffs of warm air in.

And Kei takes it all, oh, Kei _wants_ it all, he pulls away for a second, the words pouring from his lips with certainty he’s seldom felt before in his lif. "I love you." It's not loud, but it's clear, in the relative silence, in the half-light, he's giving his heart again to the man he cut it on and he doesn't care about that last part. Drop it, he thinks, gleefully, crush it, it's not like it hasn't been yours all this time.

"I love you too, moonshine." Kuroo pulls him into another kiss, another, another, and then he starts mouthing down his neck until Kei arches, and the wheel digs into his back.

The yelp gets Kuroo's attention, he stops, breathing hard. "Let's go up, someone's bound to walk by, and I know you don't care right now-" he grins at Kei. "-But you might tomorrow."

Knowing he's right, Kei disentangles himself from Kuroo but for his hand, which searches for the others and stays clasped there as -blushing, with their clothes in disarray- they make their way out of the car and towards the elevators. 

.

.

The heat, the dizzying rush between them seems to calm slightly in the elevator.

Maybe it's because they run into a bunch of little girls leaving what looked to be a princess-themed birthday party on the first floor, but by the time Tetsuro is unlocking the door to his apartment, they're both a lot more settled -not like Tsukishima isn't prone to going from zero to pressing-Tetsuro-to-a-wall-with-a-hand-down-his-pants in less than half a minute-. Instead of the frank, overwhelming lust from the car, there's a sort of nervousness to every movement they make, like the very air between them is jittery and charged. Even when Tetsuro bends down to untie his sneakers, he can feel it.

Something tells him he shouldn't be surprised, though, this is -will be- the first time they actually-

Tsukishima flicks the light switch on, and as the light fills the room, washing over them, Tetsuro's train of thought is stopped in its tracks.

The torrent of nerves he's feeling in his belly is perfectly painted in Tsukishima's face, the blond's forehead is pinched, his lips are pressed tight together and his eyes are looking anywhere that isn't in Tetsuro's direction.

The image makes that recently-closed hole in his chest throb.

Right. Don't overthink it, this is not so much about him, not this time at least.

Tetsuro takes a couple of steps forward, hands finding Tsukishima's trim waist, squeezing reassuringly at the flesh there. He sighs and pulls the blond close. "Where's the Tsukki that just straddled me in public?" he asks, pushing their chests together. It might be only two inches but when they're this close, Tetsuro does have to give his chin the slightest tilt upwards to brush his lips to the blond's now flushed cheek. "Did you really hit your head hard?"

There's a sharp intake of breath, and the laugh that escapes Tsukishima is a little too breathy. "We weren't in public," he says, arms looping comfortably around Tetsuro's shoulders. "And I have no idea what you're talking about."

"We were in a very common and open area, Tsukki." Tetsuro rolls his yes, pushing up on his toes a little to brush his lips over Tsukishima's brow, hands still holding him steady where he is. "I'm pretty sure that Tsukki's still here, let me show you?"

The moment Tsukishima simultaneously relaxes and steels himself, Tetsuro feels it, not only in his grasp or in the way their hips are pressed together, but because the blond tilts his head up, their noses bump for as second before Tsukishima's silky lips are meeting his, sweetly coxing Tetsuro until he takes over the kiss and Tsukishima arches into him in response. "Show me-" the eyes that Tetsuro's meet when he opens them are glazed over.

It's fine, they're fine. "Alright-" Tetsuro walks Tsukishima back so he's pressed to the wall where the light switch is mounted. "-c'mon baby," he says, hands sliding under Tsukishima's shirt while the blond lets his jacket fall to the carpeted floor with a muted sound. Tetsuro latches on to the side of that pale neck, feels the pulse with his lips, and breathes in the way Tsukishima's skin smells. "Up," he commands and the blond's toned arms heed it, the shirt joins the jacket soon enough.

He takes special care to explore them all, the expanses of taut skin that are revealed to him slowly, then all at once.

By the time he has to get on his knees, the blond is already marked all the way down to the waistband of his pants. "Tetsu-" he pants, and Tetsuro looks away from where his fingers are hooked on the waistband of Tsukishima's sweatpants and underwear. "Fuck-" it's a sweet, wanting voice.

"Something wrong?" He smirks, tugging at the fabric too softly to actually slide it down. "Want me to stop baby?"

At that, the blond actually pouts. "No," he huffs, hands burying in Tetsuro's hair, tugging his face close to the blond's groin, "I want you to hurry up... you always tease me."

He licks his lips. "You can take revenge, I don't mind."

While Tetsuro may know what buttons he's pushing, so does Tsukishima. They're on equal ground, at last, in everything, and the way the blond moans out the last part of that sentence quickly blows all intelligent thought from Tetsuro's head. All that's left behind is a deep desire to give Tsukishima anything he wants, anytime he wants.

And nothing is stopping him so Tetsuro tugs the last of Tsukishima's clothes down, freeing his achingly hard erection -and he can feel himself just as hard, straining against his pants- and leaving them to pool around his ankles.

Tetsuro locks his gaze into Tsukishima's and licks a long strip from the base up to the tip, committing to memory the way the blond's eyes screwed shut, the way his eyebrows scrunch up. "Tetsuro-" he moans and there's no need for any other prompting, holding Tsukishima's hips to the wall, Tetsuro takes him, swallowing the blond's length down to the base in one stroke, drawing a veritable scream from the other's throat.

The back of his throat and his jaw ache a little, but by far, it isn't enough for Tetsuro to take his eyes of the way Tsukishima looks right now, not enough to make him disregard even one of the blond's deep, guttural moans.

In his hair, those long, calloused fingers tighter, and Tetsuro ups his pace, nails digging into the soft flesh of the sides of Tsukishima's hips.

Distantly, there's that awareness, a writing on the wall of his soul that says he would never be able to love someone else like this, and thank god he doesn't have to.

And then, when Tsukishima's things are shaking with the effort of remaining standing, and his powerful hips are doing their damnedest to bypass Tetsuro's solid hold and thrust into his mouth, the blond lets out an echoing moan of Tetsuro's name.

Tetsuro takes all of it then too.

.

.

It's not something Kei would ever admit out loud -because he knows Kuroo knows, deep down-, but he enjoys immensely when Kuroo gets like this, it's like he's pouring liquid adoration all over Kei.

And it feels good, so good.

He doesn't let the other carry him to the bedroom though because he really appreciates what that back can do, and Kei isn't light at all. Instead, they tumble together over to Kuroo's room, with Kei all but clawing off the man's clothes once he blushingly realizes that for all his overt nakedness-at this point he's wearing his glasses and compression socks-, Kuroo hasn't even taken off the silly Frogs' hoodie that may have just been the catalyst for this whole thing.

By the time they do get to the room, Kuroo is down to his socks and boxers and Kei has left a bite mark that he's particularly proud of at the nape of his neck. Unequivocally marking the man, and Kei knows the mark isn't quite what matters, but what it means makes his head spin.

They have been back together for close to two weeks, and maybe this is the first time he feels it fully, even though it dawned on Kei a while ago.

Kuroo is _his_ , his soulmate, his lover.

And Kei, who never truly needed a soulmate can't help but love the fact that they are. He can't regret it, cant hope for a cleaner story, not when Kuroo is here, kissing over his chest and tangling his legs with Kei's, trying like hell to be what he wants, what he needs.

Even when that's what he has been from the start, from that stupid little moment Kei snuck around a gym singing to himself because, as much as it didn't seem likely, as much as Kei didn't know if he even wanted it to be true, he knew.

He knew and he knows, and Kuroo's hands leave his waist only to pull the man's own boxers down and off. 

And then there are fingers prodding t him, both careful and demanding. Kei can only give in to it, into Kuroo's fingers, into his lips, melting together with him and loving every second of it. He gives as good as he gets, raking his nails down Kuro''s sides and back, drawing him into kisses that Kei might usually blush even just thinking of. 

"Ready, Kei?" that deep, honeyed voice croons. 

Kei is on his side, one leg on the bed, the other hooked over Kuroo's arm. Kuroo is behind him, body pressed up in almost all it's length to his, lips pecking along the line of Kei's shoulders. And Kei feels so open, so exposed, he buries his head on the pillow under it in an attempt to hide his blushing face. "I've been ready for the past half hour, Kuroo-" he groans. "-I want- I want you inside" he calls breathily, rolling his hips back if only to feel Kuroo's slicked up length grind against his stretched hole. The touch alone sends sparks of heat up his spine, and if Kuroo doesn't get on with it soon, Kei might just roll them over and take charge himself.

"Aye, aye-" Kuroo laughs, dark and deep, nipping quickly at the lobe of Kei's ear. "You're so demanding-" he lines himself up, the ar holding Kei's leg hoists it up even further, his hamstrings burn. "-but you're also the most beautiful person in the world, my soulmate, my Kei."

Kei barely has time to be surprised, before the older man thrusts right in, hard and deep, turning his delighted hum at hearing Kuroo acknowledge it, into a high pitched cry.

At the moment, he doesn't have words, all he can do is leverage himself on his free leg and try and thrust backward as Kuroo pounds into him, brushing over his sweet spot every time, making him see stars every single time. 

At some point Kuroo's free hand tangles in the longer strands of his hair and it tugs Kei's head back in a way that almost manages to be painful -it would be, if Kei weren't on the precipice of coming, cock bobbing hard and leaking against his stomach- and captures Kei's lips into a bruising kiss, one that makes him taste blood, the old split part of his lip making itself known.

It almost manages to be ironic, Kei could find the irony in it if-

That's when Kuroo moans, right by his ear and Kei's mind whites out, and he's glad for it, he's glad for everything right now.

.

.

Tetsuro crawls quickly into bed, early morning sunshine filtering under his blinds, it's probably not even fully light out yet, he hasn't bothered to check.

He curls his body around Tsukishima's, spooning him, wrapping an arm around the blond's middle, and throwing a leg over his hips, at this, there's a hitch of breath. "Sorry baby, did I wake you?" he asks, a little concerned, after all, after they had round two in the bathroom last night, Tsukishima looked concerningly tired, he passed out almost as soon as he got some boxers on himself and Tetsuro had to get the blankets from underneath him and quite literally help him sit up so he could drink some water. But of course, the blond di lay a full game yesterday, and then with the night they had...

Tsukishima hums groggily. "Since you got up t' the bathroom." He wiggles in Tetsuro's eyes, pressing closer, one of his hands seeking out the one Tetsuro has put around his middle, tangling their fingers together. "Go t'sleep. It's way too early."

"That's the plan, can I wake you up with breakfast?" Tetsuro yawns, enjoying the closeness, burying his nose in the soft curls of his boyfriend's hair. 

There's a little snort, more aware than before. "Did you somehow expect me to say no?"

He laughs, "Nope." Then it goes quiet, the early morning traffic barely a hum, even though winter is close, the sunshine is prettily bouncing off thousands of little dust motes in Tetsuro's room. "You know you're the only one I'd want, right?" He finds himself saying, holding Tsukishima even closer, although it's physically impossible. "It was always you."

Tsukishima makes a little displeased sound, he wiggles until he's face up, eyes turned towards Tetsuro. "What's this about?" he asks, looking a little annoyed like he was just about to fall asleep again. 

Tetsuro tries to make his smile charming. "I just wanted to say it."

"You're a dork." Tsukishima huffs, completing his turn body now facing Tetsuro's. "Thank you for saying it," he says, more quietly, amber eyes filling with affection.

"Can I say it again?" Tetsuro blurts out. It's not that he doesn't think the blond doesn't get it or anything of the sort, but Tsukishima deserves to hear it as many times as he can. As many times as he'll allow.

Tsukishima looks at him for a second, then a sardonic little smirk takes over his angelic face. "Scratch that, you're a humungous dork."

"Maybe," Tetsuro leans forward and giggles at the way the mess of Tsukishima's wavy strands of barley blond hair tickle the bridge of his nose. "I'm taking that as a yes, you know?"

"I know." And then they're kissing softly, morning breath a non-issue, before Tetsuro pulls his soulmate to his chest, kisses his forehead, and they fall back asleep, together.

.

.

"Oh don't pout so much King, you had your leaving committee last night." Kei teases, heaving one of Kageyama's heavy suitcases into the trunk of Kuroo's car -since Kageyama sold this last month-.

The setter gives him a pinched look. "I had motion sickness last time," he grumbles, fidgeting with his fingers. "Stop looking so smug that you can make out with rooster head in the living room without anyone gagging at you two."

If Kei didn't know him, he'd even buy it, that's how believable Kageyama's grimace is. "Sure, is the penguin picking you up after all?" But Kei does know him, and since December started, here weeks ago, Kageyama has been getting more and more fidgety. He never has been more than a four-hour flight from his family, and contrary to what many people may think, he's kind of spoiled.

"Yeah," Kageyama grumbles. "He got this week off to help me set up." At least the thought of Hoshiumi makes him smile a little, even as he tucks another suitcase as big as the first -both are full of volleyball clothes and notebooks, and a staggering amount of sneakers-. "Speaking of rooster head, are you going to stop chickening out of asking him?"

Kei glares at him. "I liked it more when you didn't like him and he was afraid of you." Kei sighs, remembering the whole week that Kuroo spent trying to get Kageyama to at least not murderously glare at him when in his immediate vicinity. "I'll do that later, it's not like we're on a deadline or anything." In the end, Kageyama was won over with pork curry and -of all things- a Hoshiumi plushie that Kei really doesn't want to know where Kuroo even got -he doesn't want to know where he got the one that looks like Kei either-.

Kageyama shrugs. "Chicken."

He's about to come up with something witty, when Kei hears the telltale humming, echoing the one that has been in his head since Kuroo went up to get both their jackets -because, god forbid Kei catches a cold- a few seconds later, ta pair of legs appears at the top of the stairs that lead down to the parking lot, and then his boyfriend appears, already bundled up in a red bomber jacket and Holding Kei's white coat in his left hand. "You two good to go?" he calls as he approaches. "You have a lot of luggage to check-in," he observes, as he reaches them, one of his arms going around Kei's waist, the other handing him a coat.

Subconsciously, Kei leans into the touch, or well, maybe not so subconsciously, Kageyama's pinched nose is funny. "yeah, that's all." The setter nods. "Thanks for driving me Kuroo." It's said through gritted teeth, but Kageyama wouldn't be Kageyama if he was particularly cordial.

The drive over to the airport isn't eventful at all, it's a night flight, not late enough that traffic would be lighter, so they sit through the usual traffic jams with K-pop blaring from the car's speakers and Kuroo singing along very off-key.

It's... good.

Even if it's very annoyingly cold, it hasn't snowed yet but it probably will within the week, Kei's glad that everyone's wearing masks now because of the virus that has apparently broken out, because at least his nose is kept from freezing.

The airport's parking lot is fairly deserted, though, Kuroo parks and Kageyama immediately goes out to get his luggage. Kei stays for a moment, taking a breath to calm himself. "You're not helping him with that crazy amount of luggage?" Kuroo asks, smiling at Kei.

"Yeah," he answers, feeling a little put-off. "Just a second." He's basically been around Kageyama non-stop for the past eight or so years, it's not that he's sad about the other leaving, but being sincere, his absence is going to be notable. Even last night, when they had a small going away party with most people from Karasuno, it was a palpable thing. Even though all of them knew on some level that Kageyama would end up one of those super athletes flying all over the world for matches.

Even Hinata was there, engagement ring shiny on his finger, Kei isn't sure when the wedding's going to be, but it's probably pretty soon, seeing as the ginger will be going back to Brazil in February.

He slips out of the car and around it, wordlessly taking one of Kageyama's suitcases to carry himself.

The setter gives him a stunned look for a second, but nonetheless nods at Kei as they start walking over.

The lady at the check-in seems a little relieved to see them, as it's about to close and Kageyama has a first-class seat, the process happens quickly, even with all the luggage that needs to be checked, and then, they're left staring at the security line, the one Kei can't go past.

Kei shoves his hands in his pockets and looks over at Kageyama, who looks a little like he did the day after their last Nationals game in third year, all excitement and frazzled nerves. Kei smirks at him. "Your penguin is expecting you."

"Technically he's going to be" Kageyama quips back, "He's on the train to Rome."

Kei rolls his eyes at him. "You're so whipped," he says, checking his hip into the dark-haired man's.

Kageyama scoffs. "Like you're one to talk."

Kei doesn't have an answer to that, so he settles for looming over Kageyama for a second before ruffling the other's hair out of that horrid side-part he has been wearing as of late. "You better send me at least one decent bottle of wine."

"Why? Because you drank mine?" Kageyama says, smiling tightly.

"No," Kei smirks, feeling a wave of emotion rise up his throat. "Because you can't send gelato."

"You can visit," Kageyama says, suddenly looking away.

"Yeah," Kei takes a deep breath. "I can."

The hug that comes after, is short, and awkward. For two people who are so familiar with each other's bodies, neither has any idea where to put their hands, and they both end up laughing.

No, Kei's not losing a friend today, not at all.

After that, Kageyama goes through the line, and Kei goes back to the car, smiling a little though part of him kind of doesn't want things to change, even though they already have.

Kuroo's listening to Taylor Swift now, as he usually does, they've gone from Kei's two songs in his sad playlist to Kuroo quite literally knowing her last album by heart. Not that it's a bad thing.

Nothing about it is a bad thing, there are still bumps, of course, sometimes Kei can't wrap his head around things and explodes, sometimes Kuroo tries too hard and Kei feels babied.

Still, Kei has not regretted telling Kuroo to stick around that day, not even once.

Kei reaches the car and slips right into the passenger seat, rubbing his hands that have stiffened from the cold. As soon as he's closed the door, Kuroo's hands are on top of them, warm from being in the car. "How'd that go?" he asks.

"Good," Kei says, smiling a little at him.

"You're going to miss him, aren't you?" Kuroo teases, taking one of Kei's hands and placing a kiss on the palm.

"Oh, shut up," Kei huffs, feeling heat rising up to his cheeks. "Think we can grab something on the way home?"

"Mmmm yeah," Kuroo says, releasing Kei's hands and turning over to the wheel. He hesitates a little, a question in his eyes that Kei has seen often for the past few weeks.

The same one that has been in Kei's mind. "Kuroo," he calls, and the man's head snaps to him. Kei expected his belly to coil with nervousness, but it doesn't, he already knows the answer. "Kageyama said you'd be a good roommate." he still does feel a blush burning on his cheeks.

The older man gapes at him for a second, his hazel eyes incredulous, but also so so hopeful. "Kei," he starts carefully. "Are you asking me to move in?"

Kei laughs, settles deeper into his seat, and breathes in Kuroo's scent. "Yeah, I guess I am." He says, and his hand finds it's usual place on Kuroo's knee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh I still kinda can't believe it.  
> I'd love to know what you thought of this finale
> 
> Lost, lots of love, Kyrye.

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched the whole training camp arc for this lol, had a good few laughs and now wanna write Kagehina  
> I really would love to know what Y'all think about this!  
> Thanks for reading! Come say Hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Kyryedubarie)
> 
> Love, Kyrye


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